


The Impossible Boy

by golden_hestia



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Doctor Who AU, Ethan is Clara, Fluff, Follows the Impossible Girl storyline, Happy Ending, I promise, M/M, Mark is the Doctor, Period Typical Attitudes, Slow Burn, Time Travel, but he does live, which means Ethan dies a few times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 93,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26656213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_hestia/pseuds/golden_hestia
Summary: “We’ve met before,” he confessed knowing there was no turning back. He sat cross-legged in front of Ethan, “the first time was on Gallifrey.” He was trying hard to keep his voice steady, but the pain on Ethan’s face was unbearable, especially knowing it was his fault.  “I was trying to run away and this boy appeared out of nowhere, and he told me which TARDIS to take… and he was you, Ethan. He had your face and god, he even had your eyes.”--Mark has seen a lot of things in his years traveling the universe, and he usually has all the answers. But one thing he can't figure out is the boy that he keeps meeting, over and over again. With the same face, the same voice and same eyes.Ethan Nestor.Everything Mark knows about the universe tells him that he should be impossible.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 64
Kudos: 220





	1. The Impossible Boy

**Author's Note:**

> The AU no one was asking for lmao. This was very self-indulgent of me. Once the thought popped into my head, it wasn't leaving so here it is.

Ethan Nestor was falling. 

It was like an adrenaline high that would never end. His body felt like it was on fire, every nerve in his body was fried past their limits. All he could hear was the roar of the wind and his heart thundering in his chest, threatening to burst. His eyes were left permanently squeezed shut, the harsh light that surrounded him, burned his eyes. He didn’t know which way was up or down, all he knew was that he was trapped, falling for eternity. 

It felt like the wind was ripping him into shreds and every sliver of his being was being cast out into the farthest depths of the universe, never to be found again. He existed everywhere and nowhere all at once. The pain was debilitating, it left him paralyzed and desperate for any kind of relief as tears pricked his eyes and a sob choked its way up his throat, the wind immediately sucking the desperate cries out of his lungs, into the abyss. 

Ethan didn’t know anything, he wasn’t even sure that was his name. He couldn’t think of anything except for the constant pain and panic that consumed his entire being.

A loud clap of thunder broke through the constant roar in his ears and Ethan’s eyes shot open. His mind was assaulted with images of a thousand lives, all of which were his own. Memories flooded his brain.

_How could he ever forget all the lives he’s lived?_

From every century, every planet, every universe. Image after image slotted into place like millions of Ethan-shaped puzzles. His brain was about to burst from the sudden flood of information he was forced to absorb like a sponge.

He’s born, he lives, he dies. 

Each life is as unique as the next, but one thing _always_ stayed the same. 

The Doctor.

_Mark. Always Mark._

Ethan would _always_ save Mark. Over and over, a vicious cycle of Ethan doing whatever it took to save Mark’s life. Even at the expense of his own. Ethan has done every single thing you can think of to save him. Something as simple as holding a door open or closed so Mark had more time to escape. Other times, something more drastic like putting himself in harm's way, all to protect a man that sometimes doesn’t know he exists. But Ethan’s always there. He’s been there since the very first day that Mark started running. 

Ethan always knows Mark, he can spot him no matter what he looks like. Mark’s had dozens of faces throughout time and space and Ethan has each one seared into his brain. 

Sometimes Mark would pass him in the street, no glint of recognition in his eyes as he raced past Ethan with whoever he was travelling with at the time. Sometimes Mark would see him and pause, a confused look on his face before he carried on, leaving Ethan behind until the next life. The lives that Ethan cherished the most were the ones where _he_ was racing alongside Mark to save the universe. Whether they were best friends, lovers or enemies, Ethan has been everything and nothing to Mark. But Mark will always be everything to him. 

Ethan whips his head to the side, he swore he heard Mark yelling at him to, _“run! For the love of god, Ethan, run!”_

And he always does, whether it’s with him or away from him, he always listens to Mark, he’s trusted him with so many of his lives, because he’ll get to see him again in another one. 

The roaring was getting louder and Ethan feels like he’s falling faster, falling into what, or falling into where he doesn’t know. All he knows is that _Mark is safe_. He’s safe because Ethan has dedicated his existence to keeping him alive. 

His next life is approaching, he doesn’t know how he knows, but he can feel the memories of his other lives disappearing, leaving one behind. But it’s ok, he’ll get to see Mark soon, no matter how long it takes, he’s always there. 

Mark’s The Doctor.

And Ethan is his Imposible Boy.

  
  



	2. The Day He Started Running

**Gallifrey, 1963.**

Mark wiped his sweaty hands on his robes nonchalantly, trying to calm his beating hearts as he nodded hello at the few people who passed him in the hallways. He couldn’t let his nerves show, not in the Citadel of all places. Once he was around the corner, he looked around, making sure he was alone before he hid behind one of the large pillars in the Grand Hallway. He quickly ditched his golden headdress and velvet robes and sprinted the rest of the way down the hallway towards the large set of doors leading to Sector 8 that were nearly always guarded.  _ Nearly.  _

Mark had spent months perfecting his plan of escape. He couldn’t stand Gallifrey any longer. He had wasted more than a century of his life at the Time Academy for what felt like nothing. What was the point of becoming a Time Lord if he couldn’t explore the universe? Mark hated the sense of superiority that Time Lords had, that they had tried to engrave into his brain. He can still remember the day he was initiated into the Academy, on his eighth birthday, they took him away from his family and everything he had ever known. 

_ I swear to protect the ancient Law of Gallifrey with all my might and brain. I will to the end of my days, with justice and honour temper my actions and my thoughts.  _

Mark swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth as he remembered what they were told to recite every day before class started. He refused to become jaded and entitled like the rest of his classmates had.  _ What was the point of learning about the Cybermen, the Daleks or humans if he was just going to end up rotting here like everyone else?  _ So, Mark had done what needed to be done, he put his head down, played the part and  _ finally, _ he graduated. 

Now all he had to do was get the hell off this planet before someone noticed he was missing and turned him in to the High Council of Time Lords. Mark shuddered at the thought and hurried to open one of the heavy doors guarding his ticket out of here. With a quick glance behind him to verify that he was still alone, Mark slid through the small gap in the door and tried to shut it as quietly as possible.

A loud bang echoed through the grand hallways of the Citadel as the door slammed back into place and an ice cold shiver shot up Mark’s spine as he quickly spun around and ran towards the grey cylinders lined up against the wall. 

Both of his hearts were beating so loud that Mark couldn’t hear anything else. He had never actually seen a TARDIS in real life before. After all that time at the Academy and never once had they actually been shown one before. His amazement was short-lived as he knew that he had to leave  _ now.  _ His hands shook as he approached one and tried to remember how to open it. 

“Doctor?” 

Mark nearly jumped out of his skin as he spun around trying to find who had called his name.  _ I’m so fucked, they’re gonna turn me in. This was such a stupid idea.  _

Mark’s eyes finally landed on the form of a young man, partially hidden in the shadows. His name was on the tip of Mark’s tongue before he drew a blank. He had never seen this person in his life, he knew every classmate in his graduating class. And the months that he had put into memorizing every inch of the Citadel had allowed him to learn the names and faces of the people who worked here. 

Mark schooled his face into one of vauged annoyance,  _ pretend like you’re meant to be here. _ “Yes? What is it? What do you want?” 

His eyes scanned around the room, there was only one entrance and Mark would have heard him come in after him. 

The man fully came into the light, and Mark finally got a good look at him, trying to place the name to the face. His hair was spiked up and had Gallifreyan symbols shaved into the sides of his head which was typical for upper class Gallifreyans. The golden Gallifreyan symbols embroidered onto his red robes were the same as Marks. His eyes were what stood out the most. Mark couldn’t decide if the way they seemed to change colour from blue to green in the light was unsettling or intriguing.The knowing look in said eyes made it clear that he knew what Mark was up to, but he was making no move to alert anyone that one of the Laws of Time was about to be broken. 

“Sorry,” the man said, “but you’re about to make a very big mistake.” With a confident stride that caused Mark to take a reflective step back in case he needed to get away, the man stopped short at the TARDIS next to him. “Don’t steal that one, steal  _ this one _ ,” he said, leaning up against it. 

“The navigation system is fucked, but you’ll have way more fun.” There’s confidence in his voice and a glint in his eyes as he says it, and Mark’s never been more confused in his life. 

“I - uh, ok?” He stammers, trying to process what’s happening. He settles on asking the obvious, “who are you and how did you know my name?” 

The man throws his head back in a laugh and looks at Mark with an emotion that could only be described as fond. “Don’t worry about it, but you should really get going before someone finds you.” 

“ _ Oh fuck!”  _

Mark quickly moves over to the other TARDIS, the other man taking a step back to give him space to unlock the machine. The doors open with a hiss and Mark peers inside the dark box.

“I”ve never actually flown one of these before, have you?” 

Mark looks over to where the man was standing just a second ago and does a double-take.  _ He’s gone.  _ Mark spins around and frantically looks around trying to figure out where the hell he could’ve gone. 

_ That’s impossible _ , Mark thinks, spinning around one more time, just to make sure.

The sounds of thundering footsteps and shouting catch Mark’s attention and he’s quick to run inside the TARDIS, flinching when the light’s flicker on and the machine starts to hum. Once he reaches the centre console, Mark thinks back to how to actually fly a TARDIS. The banging is getting louder and Mark can hear the creak of the large doors being opened. 

All of a sudden the TARDIS doors slam shut and Mark has to grab the console to not fall over as the machine starts to whir and wheeze, as it starts to take off. “Who’s doing this?” Mark shouts, panic taking over him as he frantically tries to flip switches and push buttons. 

A loud groan shuts him up and he looks up at one of the monitors in wonder, he’s in space. Gallifrey and her moons are quickly becoming smaller and smaller and Mark is amazed by the pure scale of it. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this before…” he murmurs, his hands tentatively resting on the console. 

Another groan has him spinning around, terrified that someone had managed to sneak on board with him. Mark’s eyes quickly scan across the sterile white walls of the TARDIS.  _ That’ll have to change _ , Mark quickly thinks to himself before the flashing lights of the console catch his attention and a light goes on in his brain.

“Is that you? Are you trying to talk to me?” Mark asks the console, trying to remember everything they had taught him about TARDISes at the Academy. 

Another groan causes Mark to laugh in disbelief,  _ The TARDIS was talking to him _ . 

“They never told us this at the Academy!” Mark ran his hand along the console and watched as the lights flickered with his movements. 

“I guess it’s just you and me from now on,” Mark said with wonder in his voice, still trying to take in what he had done as the TARDIS groaned in what could only be assumed was agreement. 

_ He was free! He was finally free! _

The gravity of the situation hit Mark like a ton of bricks, “where should we go first?” 

As soon as he said it, the TARDIS kicked back into action and started to wheeze. Mark held onto the console and tried to take in as much of the universe as he could as they sped towards wherever the TARDIS was taking them. The man from the Citadel, long forgotten about. 

  
  
  



	3. Asylum of the Daleks

**Asylum of the Daleks, 2618.**

“Fuck!” 

Ethan drops the hammer he was holding and clutches his left hand to his chest, his left thumb in agony. He shook his hand to try and alleviate the pain as his eyes scanned the ground for the nail that he dropped. 

“Where’d you go, you stupid fucking nail,” Ethan muttered to himself, crouching down to look under the furniture he has barracading the door. That was one thing he wished his dad had taught him before Ethan left for his mission, how to hammer a nail. 

He blindly reaches under a filing cabinet until his pinky finger bumps up against the cold metal nail. He pulls it out and settles back on his heels, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. One look at the damage done to the door has him sighing in defeat as he picks himself back up again. _The barricade almost didn’t hold last night._

Last night had been one of the worst night’s he’d experienced since he crash landed here. 

Ethan grabs the board that had fallen to the floor and picks the hammer back up. He carefully places the nail and takes his time hammering it into place, not caring if it goes in crooked, just that it stays up this time. It takes Ethan just as long to secure the board on the other side of the wall and by then he’s exhausted. He drops the hammer to the ground, and walks back towards the tiny kitchen. 

The lo-fi music coming out of the communication system puts him at ease as he grabs himself a glass of milk and settles into his hammock, the bedframe and mattress having been used as a barricade long ago. 

Ethan tries not to look at the doorway, the only thing keeping him safe. His mind unintentionally wanders to memories from last night and he finds himself flinching as sounds of explosions and screeches of, “EXTERMINATE” fill his brain. 

Ethan had heard of the Daleks before he crashed here, but stories are nothing like seeing them in person. Despite not looking menacing, he knows first hand how evil and terrifying they are. Ethan wakes up every morning, knowing that it could be his last. 

He leisurely sips on his milk as the smells from the kitchen get stronger. A quick check of his watch tells him that his timer is almost up. He hauls his tired body out of his hammock and trades his glass for oven mitts. 

A quick glance in the oven has him groaning and pulling out a mildly burnt and collapsed souffle. Ethan sets it on the top of the stove and throws the oven mits onto the counter. He runs his hands through his hair in annoyance. _Why can’t I get this stupid recipe to work?_

He knows he can’t afford to waste food so Ethan grabs a spoon and digs in, not caring about the fact that it’s still fresh from the oven. _There’s always tomorrow._

An alert from one of his motion sensors has him rushing over to his communication system to check all of the monitors he’d been able to hack into. 

Slowly moving across a hallway not too far away was a Dalek, it’s eyestock slowly spinning back and forth. Ethan gulped and glanced over at his barricade, praying that it would hold. 

_Wait._

Ethan frowned and looked at his watch. Dalek’s are only active at night. But he’d only just woken up, how could it be nighttime already? 

The sound of more motion detectors activating snapped Ethan out of his confusion as he watched three more Dalek’s come out of their hiding places. He sighed and reached over to grab the single deck of cards that had kept him entertained at night when his fear kept him awake. The small cardboard box that contained the deck was almost falling apart from how much it had been used, but it was holding on the best it could. _Just like me_ , Ethan thought as he settled himself in the gap under the communication system. He had gotten really good at card tricks since he crashed here. 

“You will let us enter!” 

“We are the Dalek’s and you will let us enter!”

“Exterminate the intruder!” 

Ethan curled tighter in on himself as he slid the cards out of their box and began to shuffle them in his shaking hands. 

“I will rage, rage against the dying of the light,” Ethan mumbled to himself over and over again, fumbling the cards in his hands. He couldn’t remember who had taught him the poem, but it was the one thing that kept him sane at night, something from outside of this hell. 

“I will not go gentle into that good night,” he said louder as the screaming and banging became deafening. 

\-- 

“Doctor, on a scale of one to ten, how fucked are we?” 

Mark clenched his jaw, Bob and Wade only ever called him _Doctor_ when he was terrified. Mark supposed it was meant to act as a show of power. The name, “Doctor” carried far more weight and power behind it within the universe than “Mark” did. In the near decade of traveling with him and Bob, it had only happened a handful of times, and as Mark’s eyes scanned the seemingly endless rows of Dalek’s, Mark understood Wade’s fear. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared himself. 

The three of them were back to back, outnumbered one billion to three, and they were desperate to not to give the Dalek’s an opening. Not that they would need one. If they wanted to, they could kill all three of them before Mark could even grab his sonic screwdriver. 

“I mean, optimistically, like an eleven.” Mark shrugged his shoulders, “realistically, it was nice knowing you guys.” 

“Well that’s just fucking great isn’t it!” Wade hissed, taking his elbow and swiftly shoving it into Mark’s ribcage. 

“Hey!” Mark grunted, almost breaking their flanked position to whack Wade right back. He quickly thought better of it and elbowed Wade instead. “We’ve been in worse situations before and I’ve always gotten us out of them!” 

“Yeah but those never had this many Dalek’s,” Bob said, eyeing the Dalek’s that just seemed to be circling them like sharks. 

“Bob how long have I known you?” Mark asks, flinching away as a Dalek gets too close for his comfort. 

“Ever since you crashed that stupid box into my backyard that night Wade stayed over for my eighth birthday.” 

“Exactly! And -” 

“Dude, we gave you fish sticks and custard, you said, ‘be right back,’ and I don’t know how time works on Gallifrey, but 15 years is not, _be right back!”_

Mark groaned and rolled his eyes, “really? You’re gonna air out our dirty laundry in front of every Dalek in the universe?” 

“We had to spend _years_ in therapy together because no one believed us when we said a strange man fell out of the sky in a time machine!” 

“That was _not_ my fault! Take it up with the TARDIS if we survive this.”

_“If?”_ Wade squawked. 

_“When,”_ Mark quickly corrected, _“when_ I get us all out of this mess.” 

“Where even are we? _When_ are we?” 

“This is the Parliament of the Daleks.” Mark muttered, trying to tamp down the fear that had been trying to beat itself out. _Never show weakness in front of a Dalek._

“Do we have a plan?” Bob muttered.

Mark looked over to where his TARDIS was being guarded. Four Daleks, one per corner, and they had it all chained up. _As if that could stop it,_ Mark thought. 

“They’re only after me. So when I give the signal you two run like hell to the TARDIS, the emergency protocol will activate and it’ll take you back home.” 

Both of them break their formation to face Mark, “we aren’t leaving without you, idiot.” 

Mark gives them a sad grin and takes a deep breath before spinning around, _it was showtime._

“Alright, alright!” He shouts, the mechanical whirring of so many Dalek’s quieted at the sound of his voice. “You’ve got me, congratulations! It must be Christmas for you idiots!” Mark takes a few steps and gives a few dramatic claps before he spreads his arms out wide. 

“Let’s get this over with, shall we? _Exterminate_ and all that.” 

“Save us.” A Dalek croaks.

Mark’s arms dropped and he stared up at them, not sure he understood what they said. 

“You will save us,” it repeats. 

“Pardon?” Mark asks, looking back at Bob and Wade, who look just as confused. “This is new.” 

“Save the Dalek’s! Save the Dalek’s!” screamed every Dalek in sight. 

Mark burst out laughing, “I’ve never heard that one before!” Mark takes in the endless sea of screaming Daleks. “Why the fuck would I do that?” 

One of the circling Dalek’s approaches, causing Mark to instinctively take a step back, his sonic screwdriver pointed directly at the Dalek’s eyestock. 

“You will approach the Prime Minister!” It shrieks. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Mark mutters as he goes back toward Bob and Wade. 

“You will approach!” The Prime Minister thunders. 

Mark rolls his shoulders to disguise a shiver that went down his spine, before he cautiously approaches the Dalek, every fibre of his being screaming at him to _run._

“What do you know about the Dalek Asylum?” Its garbled voice asks. 

Mark frowned, running his clammy hands through his hair, “legend has it that it's where you idiots send all the Daleks that go wrong. The ones you can’t control,” Mark says cautiously, counting on his fingers all the potential reasons a Dalek could end up there. “It’s a dumping ground for the insane and battle-scarred. Why?” He asks, suspicious. 

“Show him.” 

Mark watches as a hole opens in the floor, causing Wade to let out a startled shout, that has both him and Bob snorting. Mark cautiously makes his way towards the hole in the floor and sucks in a breath, “oh fuck, _it’s real.”_

“The asylum comprises the entire planet.” 

“How many of you fuckers are down there?” Bob asks, flinching away from the Dalek’s that have started circling again. 

“There has never been an official count.”

“And they’re all alive down there?” Mark questions, looking away from the planet back to the Prime Minister. 

“It should be assumed. The asylum is fully automated.” 

“So, why are we here?” Wade asks, confidence returning to his voice. 

“There is a signal being transmitted from the core of the asylum.” 

When thinking of an SOS signal, Mark was expecting something along the lines of morse code. What he was _not_ expecting was the serene sounds of lo-fi music to flood the Parliament. 

“Is - is that _lo-fi?”_ Bob asks incredulously. 

The sounds of the music cause the Dalek’s to all start spinning in circles shouting, _“What is that noise! Explain! Explain! The Doctor will explain!”_

“It’s just music,” Mark shrugs, “guess you’re not used to the sounds of something that isn’t _murder and genocide_.” 

“Have any of you ever tried to communicate with this signal?” Mark inquires, glancing around from Dalek to Dalek. 

The silence that he’s met with confirms what Mark already knew. 

“Of course you haven’t. Don’t know why I even bothered,” he muttered to himself as he started tuning his sonic. 

Aiming it down at the planet, Mark clears his throat, “hello? Can anybody hear me?” 

The music is quick to stop and an excited, staticy male voice takes its place, “oh my god! Hello! Can you hear me?” 

“I can hear you, can you identify yourself?” 

“Holy fuck, this can’t be real! Are you actually real?” The man’s voice echoes back. 

“It’s ok,” Mark tries to sooth the frantic man, his voice tugging at something in Mark’s brain that he couldn’t quite place. “I’m real and I want to get you out of there. Can you identify yourself?” 

“Oh shit, yeah. Um - I’m Nestor Darling of the S.S. Maine. We crashed here almost… I don’t know like a year ago. The rest of the crew is missing, but they’re probably dead. I just really wanna go home, dude. Please come and get me.” The man almost begs. 

“ _A year?”_ Mark asks, looking back at Bob and Wade who are just as confused. “Are you ok?” 

“I’ve managed just fine, but the Dalek’s try to attack me every night and I can’t tell day and night apart anymore.” 

“And you’ve made it this long? Defending yourself from an army of insane Daleks? For a year?” Mark scratches his head, trying to figure out how on Gallifrey that was possible. 

“I mean, yeah,” the man responds, “I have a deck of cards to keep me entertained. I’ve been trying to perfect my mom’s souffle recipe.” 

“Souffle?” Mark cocks his head to the side, “can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.” 

“Where the hell are you getting the milk from?” 

There’s some white noise before the man responds, “what?” 

“Where are you getting the milk from?” 

“ _This conversation is irrelevant!”_ The Prime Minister shrieks, his eyestock flailing back and forth. 

“No it isn’t!” Mark barks back, feeling rage building within him at the callous attitude they had towards the trapped man. 

“That man has broken through our defences!” 

All at once, it dawns on Mark why they’ve brought him here. 

“That means the rest of them can get out.” He runs a stressed hand through his hair and looks around, “if he got in, that means that thousands of fucking crazy Dalek’s can get out and reap havoc on the rest of the universe.” A chill goes down Mark’s spine, “and not even you want that.” 

“The asylum must be cleansed!” shouts the Prime Minister. 

“Why not blow it up?” Mark questions, “you have enough fire power here alone to eliminate the problem.” 

“The forcefield is impenetrable!” 

Mark scoffs, “clearly not, because some random _human_ of all things managed to break through. So just turn it off.” 

“It can only be turned off from inside!” 

“You have an answer for everything don’t you?” Mark glared into the Prime Minister’s eyestock, “so why not send down a team of Dalek’s to turn it off?” 

The silence Mark was met with was deafening. He raised an eyebrow at the Prime Minister before it clicked, “oh you’re fucking joking!” Mark laughs. 

He starts back towards the Prime Minister, clapping his hands in time with his steps, “well done! Great job, I get it now.” He stops right in front of the Prime Minister, the fear from earlier long gone, replaced instead with bitter rage. “You’re all too fucking scared to do it aren’t you?” He spins around with his arms out wide. 

“Not a single fucking Dalek in this whole Parliament has the balls to go down there?” Mark glares at every Dalek he sees, “so tell me: what do Daleks do when they’re scared?” 

“The Predator of the Dalek’s will be deployed!” 

“And like I said before, why the fuck would I help you?”

“Because The Doctor has no choice!” 

Mark watches before his eyes as the Dalek’s circling Bob and Wade start to close in on them. The terrified look on their faces, enough to haunt Mark’s dreams for the rest of his lives. “Bob! Wade!” Mark shouts as he tries to run towards them, only to be blocked by more Daleks. “Leave them alone!” 

“It is your weakness, Doctor!” 

Mark hates the way that every hair on his body stands on end, “what is?” 

“Your love for humans!” The Prime Minister cries. 

The Dalek’s surrounding Bob and Wade back off, the only thing visibly wrong with them was matching cuffs on their wrists. 

“You will need these to protect you from the nanocloud!” A similar cuff is snapped around Mark’s wrist, a blue dot, all too similarly resembling an eyestock glares back at him. 

Suddenly, the Dalek’s start herding Mark, Bob and Wade towards the transporter, a bright beam of light connecting to the planet. 

“You will be transported as close to the signal as possible. You will find a way to deactivate the forcefield! Once it is off, the Doctor will have four minutes before the planet is incinerated!” 

“So that’s your plan!” Mark barks as he’s herded closer to the transporter, “just shoot me at a fucking planet and hope I fix your problems for you?!” 

“Mark,” Wade mumbles next to him, “we all knew that as soon as you heard that guy’s voice you were gonna go down there and get him.” 

Mark sighs in defeat, “well, good thing the TARDIS is bigger on the inside right? What’s one more?” 

The three of them stare down at the planet, the air around them thick with nervous energy. “I promise, “ Mark licks his lips, “I promise to do whatever I can to get you both back home.” 

He places a hand on each of their shoulders, “we jump together ok? On three?” 

He takes a deep breath as Bob and Wade count down and he pushes them out at the same time he jumps, the three of them plummeting to the Asylum of the Daleks. 

\--

Mark lands in a snow bank with a thud, all of the air in his lungs knocked out of him as he tries to roll onto his side. He tries to feel if anything is broken or seriously hurt and gingerly tries to move all of his limbs. He’s pleasantly surprised to find nothing’s broken. But that relief is short lived as he lifts his head and sees that he’s alone. 

He shoots up into a crouch, frantically scanning the horizon for any sign of Wade or Bob. All he can see for miles is power white snow. 

“Bob!” He calls, trying to get to his feet, “Wade!” 

He spins around in frantic circles hoping to catch sight of _anything_ that could tell him where his friends were. 

“Bob!” 

“Mark!” 

He stops in place and listens, relief flooding his body as he finally spots both Bob and Wade trying to trek their way through the knee deep snow. 

Movement from the corner of his eye has Mark jumping, a panicked shriek leaving his mouth as a Dalek eyestock pokes out of the ground. 

He stumbles through the snow, trying to get away before the air fills with a staticky voice, “wait, It’s just me!” 

_“Souffle Boy?”_ Mark asks suspiciously, scanning around with both his eyes and his sonic. 

The man laughs, “you know my name is Darling?” 

Mark pretends to think for a second, “nah, I like Souffle Boy better.”

He peers closer at the eyestock as it spins around to look at him.

“Dude how are you doing this? That’s Dalek technology?”

“It’s really easy to hack?” Darling replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“No it isn’t.” 

Mark gets a nervous laugh in response, “are you ok? I didn’t get a response and was afraid you’d left me here.” 

Mark shakes his head, Bob and Wade finally joining him, “no we aren’t leaving you behind, we just had some shit to deal with first. But we’re coming now. Where are you?” 

The eyestock spins around for a second before Mark gets a response, “I have no idea, when we crashed the ship basically fell apart and I ended up in this bunker thing.”

“Right,” Mark slowly nods his head, trying to figure out how this guy got so far down into the asylum. 

A loud hiss fills the air and the eyestock sinks back into the snow.

“Wait,” Mark falls onto his knees where the eyestock just was, “Souffle Boy! Darling!” 

“Mark! I think I see someone!” Bob shouts. 

Mark’s head snaps from the impression in the snow over to where Bob’s pointing to a rapidly approaching figure. 

It’s a man, about the same age as Bob and Wade, there’s something off about his eyes that Mark can’t place, but he seems excited to have found rescue. 

“I’m Commander Harvey of the S.S. Maine. We crashed a few days ago. Are you here to rescue us?” 

Mark cocks an eyebrow, assessing the man from head to toe, “yeah, that would be us. I’m The Doctor, this is Bob and Wade.” 

“Thank fucking god!” Harvey exclaims, “we crashed not too far from here, the rest of my crew is taking cover in our ship. Follow me!”

Harvey starts leading them towards the crash site when Wade grabs Mark’s shoulder, “The Maine,” he whispers cautiously, glancing ahead to Harvey, “isn’t that the name of the ship the guy we’re trying to save is from?” 

Mark gulps, “and didn’t Darling say that he’s been trapped here for a year? Why is this guy saying _two days?_ ”

Bob had noticed the two of them trailing behind and waited to fall in step with them, “are you guys getting the same bad feeling I am?” He whispers. 

“We just need to be careful that’s all,” Mark tells them, “we can help this crew and then find Darling and get the fuck off this planet.” 

“Everyone’s gonna be so thrilled!” Harvey exclaims as he brushes some snow off the ground, revealing a hatch door. 

Mark kicks at the snow under his feet, revealing the faded letter N. He pushes more snow around to reveal more letters, spelling out AINE, the M seemingly scraped off in the crash. 

“Well, here we are,” Harvey says, lifting up the hatch and dropping inside, “home away from home!” His voice echoes out. 

The three of them look at each other and then down into the dark hole of the ship. Unease was pricking at the back of Mark’s neck, but he refused to let nerves get to him now. He slowly made his way down the ladder, waiting at the bottom for both Bob and Wade before they ventured deeper inside. 

The smell is what caught Mark off guard first, a mixture of stale air and something rotten. Ahead of them, Harvey was eagerly pressing buttons and talking to his crewmates, who were all sitting up straight in their seats. 

Alarm bells started going off in Mark’s head and he crept forward, motioning for Bob and Wade to stay back. 

“Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your crew, Commander?” Mark joked. 

“Oh shit, where are my manners?” Harvey laughed, “guys, this is The Doctor and his friends Bob and Wade. They’re here to get us home.”

No one moved, or even made a sound. 

“Hello?” Harvey asks, turning away from the unlit control panel, “what’s up with you guys?”

Mark crept forward until he was right behind one of the crewmates, a thick layer of dust was on their white jacket and hood. Mark reached forward with his sonic to poke the back of their head. 

In response to the movement, the person’s head rolled back to reveal a mummified skull that almost landed on Mark’s feet, causing him to almost fall over in his haste to get away from it. 

“What the fuck!” Mark cried, his eyes wide and breathing heavy as Harvey looked confused, but not alarmed. 

Mark looked at his sonic as he scanned the room, only three vital signs. 

“They’re all dead,” Mark said slowly, backing away, “everyone is dead.” 

“But they can’t be,” Harvey chuckled nervously, “I was just talking to them, we were going to repair the engine.”

“Well they’ve clearly been here a while,” Mark said slowly, “look at them, that doesn’t happen overnight.” 

“Oh that’s right,” Harvey said, his voice emotionless, “I must have forgotten.”

“Forgot what?” Mark asked. His eyes flicked back to his sonic and he froze. _Three vital signs. Not four. One for him, Wade and Bob. But not Harvey._

Mark started frantically trying to think of a way to get the three of them out safely, knowing it would take them too long to all get up the ladder. 

“I died outside,” Harvey looks at him with dead eyes, “the cold must have preserved my body.”

Mark watched in horror as a Dalek eyestock sprouted out of Harvey’s forehead. He lunged towards Mark and it was pure luck that Mark was able to kick him back before he could wrench the fire extinguisher off of the wall. 

“Bob, the door!” Mark shouts opening fire on Harvey, smothering him with chemicals to force him back.

Bob raced to the wall to press the button to open a hatch door, Mark forcing Harvey back there as fast as he could. With a final kick, the doors slammed shut. Mark held his sonic up to the doors, ensuring he couldn’t get them open again. 

“What the actual fuck was that?” Wade screeched.

Mark wiped the sweat from his forehead and pushed his hair out of his face, “that’s the nanofield,” he gasped. “What they were talking about in Parliament, they didn’t have these on, so the nanofield turned them into Daleks.” Mark waved his bracelet around. 

“The nano field exists in the atmosphere, it will turn anything, living or dead, into Daleks.” 

“Living or dead?” Wade asks.

“What?” Mark huffs, still catching his breath.

_“Living or dead?”_ He repeats, a sense of urgency in his voice. 

Mark turns his head towards the bodies of the crewmates, and before his eyes, they start to twitch.

“Fuck me!” Mark shouts, “look for another way out, we can’t get up the ladder in time!” 

Panic fills his chest as Bob and Wade start searching for another exit, Mark not taking his eyes off the crewmates, who were starting to get out of their seats. A few left struggling against their seatbelts. 

“Anytime now!” Mark urges, kicking the first crewmate back.

“Mark, Bob, back here!” Wade shouts from one of the back corners of the ship. 

Mark kicks another crewmate back and runs towards the sealed door Wade had found. He points his sonic at it, willing it to open as the rest of the crewmates creep closer. Their eyestocks illuminate the cockpit. 

“C’mon, open up, you stupid door,” Mark hissed between his clenched teeth. 

“Fucking get off me!” Mark hears Bob shout, doing everything in his power to try and get the door open, “Mark! How about that door?” 

“It won’t open,” he shouts, changing the frequency. “I’m doing the best I can!” 

The doors open with a hiss and Mark waits for Bob and Wade to run through before he follows, aiming his sonic to seal the doors back up.

“Let’s go, baby!” A staticky voice echoes around them. 

“Darling?” Mark gasps, the adrenaline still pumping through his system, “how the fuck did you do that?” 

“I told you, tech is easy to hack.” 

\-- 

Ethan grinned and fist pumped the air as he watched through his monitor as his rescuers caught their breath.

He watched as the three men made sure each other was ok. Ethan felt a pang of jealousy in his chest at the evidently close relationship they shared. After being trapped here for so long, Ethan couldn’t even remember what being hugged felt like. But he shoved those feelings down and reminded himself that they were here to _finally bring him home._

The man that he had spoken with earlier starts scanning the room, “Darling?” He calls, “where the hell are you?” 

“Well, _sweetheart,”_ Ethan teases, “if you look up, you’ll see my pretty face.” 

He watches as the three of them all lookup and search the ceiling until the man with glasses points to his location, “there it is.” 

Ethan presses a few keys on his keyboard and starts scanning the area for any Daleks. “Let me get you the hell out of there. You’re in one of the escape pods from the Maine -” 

“Seriously, _how are you doing this?”_ The man asked, hands on his hips as he craned his neck to look up at the camera, “you’re in a bunker, that shouldn’t be possible.” 

Ethan shrugged, “I don’t know dude, when you’ve been here for so long, you teach yourself how to do shit.” 

The man scratched at his beard, “I mean, I guess. But _Dalek technology?_ That’s some of the most complex in the universe. What are you, some kind of computer genius, Nestor Darling?” 

Ethan beamed at the compliment, “I’ll be sure to add that to my business card, _S.S Maine Crewmate, Nestor Darling, computer genius.”_

He watched as the man snorted and shook his head. A bang at the barricade causing him to shoot out of his chair and look towards it. It was holding strong, _for now._

He carefully turns back to the three men and abruptly realizes something, “um, I never actually caught your names?” 

“Oh,” the man seemed surprised that he forgot something so simple. “You can call my Doctor, and this is Bob and Wade.” 

The two men waved in turn and Ethan scrunched up his face in confusion, “Doctor? _Doctor who?”_

Bob and Wade groaned as the Doctor fist bumped the air, “he did the thing! I love when people do the thing!” 

“That’s great Mark, but we really need to get going,” Bob reminded them, sternly. 

“Mark?” Ethan chimed, “Doctor Mark? That’s your name?” 

“Just Mark is fine,” the Doctor said, kindly, “but yeah, Mark’s my name, or, one of them at least.” 

“Oh, what a fancy man,” Ethan teases as he stares at Mark's pixelated face. 

A gasp from Bob causes Ethan’s eyes to flick over to him where he’s got one hand clamped around his wrist, looking around frantically, “no, no, no. Where is it?”

Mark rushes over and puts his hands on Bob’s shoulders, “Bob, what’s wrong?” 

“My - my bracelet is gone!” 

He watches Mark’s eyes widen and he frantically pries Bob’s hand off his wrist, to reveal that both are in fact bare. 

“It - it must’ve come off when we were fighting those Dalek-things,” Bob stammered. Even through the screen, Ethan could see how pale Bob was getting, “Mark what’s gonna happen to me?” 

He watched as Mark chewed on his lip and sighed, “I honestly don’t know. But the faster we get out of here, the better.” 

“I’m gonna turn into one of those _things!”_ Bob shouts, panic clearly taking over. 

“No!” Mark barks back, “you're not. Because Darling is gonna lead us right to him, we’ll get him out and then we go home. Got it. Nothing is going to happen to any of us!” 

The ferocity and determination in his voice made Ethan gulp, slightly nervous. But it seemed to reassure Bob, and that was what really mattered. 

“There’s an escape hatch towards the back of the escape pod,” Ethan tells them, pulling up the blueprints on one of his monitors, “when it crashed it breached the roof of the asylum and it should lead you straight to me. There’s also a transporter down here that we can use to escape.” 

He watched Mark hold up what looked like a screwdriver with a light-up tip and wave it around the room. He pointed to the location of the hatch and waved Bob and Wade over, “here it is, help me get it open.” 

The three of them worked together to wedge the hatch open and they all peered inside. “We should be able to climb down,” Mark muttered, mostly to himself. 

Ethan got a nervous feeling in his stomach as the three of them started down the hatch, “wait! There aren't any cameras or anything down there, so I guess I’ll see you when you get here?” 

Mark gave one last look to the camera and gave him a thumbs up, “see you on the other side.” And he dropped down, out of Ethan’s sightline. 

\--

“Mark, what’s gonna happen to me?” Bob asked, “and don’t bullshit me, I can tell when you’re lying.” 

Mark sighed as he helped Bob navigate his way down the cavern. “So, the nanofield right? The air is full of these tiny-ass little robots, the size of atoms. The bracelets keep them away, but you’re unprotected so... you’re being rewritten.” 

“Great so I’m gonna have one of those things, coming out of my head?” 

Mark grimaces, “eventually yeah, but that comes later.”

“What comes first?” 

Mark jumps the last few feet to the ground and rubs his temples, “it gets your mind first. Takes your memories, your emotions and just… fills you with hate. And it’s already happening.”

Bob paused from where he was about to jump down, “what do you mean it’s already happening?” 

From behind him, Wade put a hand on his shoulder, “this is the fourth time you’ve asked him, Bob.” 

The only way to describe the look on Bob’s face is shell shocked, and Mark understands it. He’s spent years telling the two of them just how awful Daleks were, and now Bob was slowly being turned into one. 

“I’m fucking terrified, “ Bob stammered as he landed on his feet, “like, really fucking terrified.”

“That’s good,” Mark assured, “scared is _human._ Hold onto that fear. _”_

Bob nods, taking a shaky breath and wiping at his eyes before he turns around to help Wade down. 

The three of them take in their dimly lit surroundings, the sounds of Dalek’s screaming all around them. 

“Darling?” Mark shouts, “can you hear us?” 

“I can hear you, but I can’t see you, just your vital signs.” Darling’s tinny voice echoes. “There’s a hoard of Dalek’s to your left, most of them are immoble, but they’re still dangerous.” 

Mark snorts, “trust me, I’m very aware of how dangerous these are, is there a way we can get to you that doesn’t involve going through them?” 

There’s a bit of a pause before Darling replies, “yeah, but it’s a little bit longer, you have to kinda work your way around.” 

“The less Dalek’s the better,” Wade mutters. 

“So just go to the end of the hallway, to the door and then you’re gonna take a left.” 

Mark pushes Bob, who was starting to zone out, forward with a hand between his shoulder blades, “we have to keep moving.” 

They stop at the doorway and Mark steps up to look at the keypad, “we need a code, do you know it?” 

“I’m working on it,” Darling responds, clearly concentrating. “Shouldn’t take more than a few more minutes.” 

Mark scans the keypad with his sonic and tries to extract any information from it that he can. 

_“Bob!”_ Wade hisses, _“what the fuck are you doing?”_

Mark glances back and does a double-take as he watches Bob stumble his way towards a group of slowly moving Daleks. They don’t seem aware of Bob yet, but that doesn’t mean they won’t notice him eventually. 

_“Bob!”_ Mark tries to keep his voice as even as possible, “Bob get back over here!” 

Bob waves at them, “guys, it’s ok, there’s people down here!” 

Mark winces as Bob gets dangerous close to one of the Daleks, “Wade, stay here.” 

He makes his way carefully through the maze of Daleks towards Bob with his hand out. “Bob, it’s the nanofield messing with your head. Snap out of it and take my hand, we need to leave.” 

Bob shakes his head and Mark can see the exact moment that Bob comes back to himself because of the way he freezes. As slowly as he can, Bob turns back to face Mark, the terror evident on his face. “Mark what the fuck did I do?” 

“It’s ok,” Mark assures, grabbing Bob’s wrist, “we’re gonna walk slowly back to Wade, they haven’t noticed us yet.”

Bob nods and lets Mark weave them through the decaying Daleks back to where Wade is waiting, the door now open. 

“I’m so fucking scared,” Bob whisperes.

Mark squeezes his wrist, “that’s good. I told you, hold on to that fear.” 

They’re almost free from the Daleks when one of their eyestocks spins around and connects with Mark’s arm.

“Run!” Mark shouts as the Dalek’s start screaming, “EXTERMINATE.”

He shoved Bob in front of him and prayed that whatever was wrong with these Dalek’s affected their aiming systems. 

“Intruder! Intruder!” 

Mark watches in slow motion as the Dalek goes to fire, his lives flash before his eyes and his last thought was that he was sorry he couldn’t save Bob and Wade. 

He covers his eyes with his arms and waits for the blast that never happens. 

He peeks out from between his arms to see the Dalek’s weakly trying to fire, but all that happens is a weak pew-pew noise. 

“They’re defective!” He laughs, incredulously, taking a step closer. “They can’t hurt us!”

“That doesn’t mean we should stick around!” Wade shrieks, both him and Bob in the doorway. 

“Identify me!” Mark orders the nearest Dalek. 

Its eyestock spins around weakly and Mark laughs again, “come on you bucket of bolts, even as fucked up as you are, you know who I am!” 

“There’s that ego again,” Mark hears Bob mutter, and he chooses to ignore it. 

“You… are… the… Predator…” the Dalek creaks. 

“You’re fucking right I am,” Mark boasts, “access your orders on the Predator.” 

“The Predator… must… be… destroyed…” 

“And how are you gonna do that?” He challenges, “you don’t have a gun! You’re useless!” 

“Mark! What the fuck, _let’s go!”_

“Trust me for one second,” he urges, waving his hand back in their direction. “C’mon, how are you gonna destroy the Predator?” 

“Self-destruct initiated… 10… 9…” 

“ _Doctor! Come on!”_

“It’s fine,” Mark promises, waving his sonic at the Dalek’s eyestock, “this is the only weapon it has left, and we’re gonna use it to our advantage!” 

“Self-destruct cannot be stopped! 4… 3...“ 

“I’m not stopping you, idiot,” Mark snarks, “I’m just looking for the reverse.” 

The pitch of his sonic peaks as the Dalek shoots backwards towards the rest of the hoard.

“Forward! Forward!” Those that are able to shout.

“1…” 

Mark runs towards Bob and Wade as the Dalek’s explode behind them. He barely has enough time to hide behind the door frame with Bob and Wade as the wave of fire whooshes past them down the hallway. 

“Well that was fucking epic!” Darling shouts, his voice screeching in and out. “It’s smooth sailing from here, I have the rest of the doors open.” 

“Perfect, the faster we can get out of here, the better!” 

Mark starts down the hallway when a hand at his wrist stops him. 

“Mark,” Bob moans, having slid to the floor. “I don’t feel right.” 

“Fuck, ok, don’t worry.” Mark crouches down next to Bob and fiddles with the bracelet on his own wrist. 

“This should help,” he says as he fastens it to Bob’s wrist. 

“Am I gonna be ok?” he asks, a vacant look in his eyes. “Are you gonna be ok?”

“Yes and yes,” Mark assures, waving Wade over to help pick Bob up. “The bracelet will reverse what the nanofield has done and it’ll take longer for those bastards to affect me.” 

Bob nods, clearly out of it as Mark drapes an arm around his shoulder, taking on the brunt of Bob’s weight. They drag him down to the end of the hallway to what was clearly once a functioning transporter. Wade settles Bob down on it for when they’ll need to leave and he himself falls to the floor. 

“How have you managed to survive the nanofield, Darling?” Mark ponders, scanning Bob with his sonic to make sure his vitals are alright. 

“Oh, one of the first things I did was hack into the ventilation system and filter it out. I’m completely safe in here!” Darling said with pride in his voice. 

“Clever guy,” Mark hums, “seems too good to be true with you.” 

He examines the transporter and kicks at the side of the rusted and damaged technology, “the Dalek’s told us this place as fully automated, but it’s a fucking wreck in here.” 

Darling’s voice had an undertone to it that Mark couldn’t place, “well, when you’ve been here for over a year, it’s amazing what you can do.” 

Mark nodded and glanced around the room, “you know what I still can’t understand though? Where the hell are you getting the milk from?” 

“The milk?” Darling questions.

“For your souffles, how have you had enough milk for a year's worth of souffles?" 

“For fucks sake, Mark, let it go,” Wade muttered from his place on the floor. 

“I’ve been looking into the files the Daleks have on you Doctor Mark,” Darling says suddenly, a slight edge to his voice. “Why do they call you the Predator?” 

“The Daleks call me a lot of things,” Mark mutters, darkly, “but I’m no predator, I’m a man with a plan.” 

“Doubt it,” Wade groans, checking to make sure Bob was ok.

“Wade, I’m gonna leave you here if you don’t shut up.” 

Mark claps his hands, “first, we need to get Darling out of his bunker, then we need to neutralize all the Daleks and then the hell of this planet!”

“How are we gonna do that?” 

“Glad you asked Wade!” Mark points to the camera in the corner of the room, “Darling! There’s a Dalek ship orbiting the planet, correct?” 

“I see it on the radar, yeah.” 

“There’s a forcefield that we need to turn off, the Daleks are waiting for me to do it. As soon as it goes down, they’re gonna blow us up. Does that genius brain of yours think it can hack into the forcefield?”

“I mean, yeah I can do that. But why would I if they’re just gonna blow us up?”

“Because we’re standing in a transport bay?” Mark says like it’s obvious.

“But will it be able to get us out of here?” Wade croakes. 

“It will when I’m done messing around with it,” Mark promises.

“But the closest thing we’ll be able to transport to is the Parliament of the Daleks, and they’ll kill us on site!” Wade hisses. 

Mark flaps his hand, “we’ll be fine, trust me!” 

“I can do it as soon as you come get me.” Darling urges. 

Mark frowns from where he was tinkering with the transporter. “Why don’t you just come to us?” 

“Because I’m really fucking scared and I don’t have anything to defend myself and… and… I promise to drop the forcefield when you get here, I just really don’t want to be alone!” Darling rushes out, suddenly sounding a lot younger than he had earlier. 

Mark sighs, realizing that he had forgotten how scared humans can get. Bob and Wade having gotten used to traveling with him had really dulled his perceptions of certain human emotions. 

“Okay, okay,” Mark assures, dusting off his jeans, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Where are you?” 

“I can lead you to me,” Darling replies meekly. 

“Mark are you sure about this?” Wade asks, anxiety creeping into his voice. 

“I can’t leave him behind Wade, not now. We’ve come this far.” 

Wade nods his head in defeat, knowing that Mark would never leave someone behind. 

“If something happens, press that big red button. If I’m not back with Darling in three minutes, press the button no matter what. Once you’re back on the ship, fucking run like hell to the TARDIS and it’ll take you home.” 

“But what about you?”

Mark shakes his head, sadly, “don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.”

“But, you’ll be incinerated by the Daleks!” 

Mark shrugs, “I guess I’ll just be back in three minutes.”

Mark turns towards the only other exit in the room, “alright, Darling, where are you?” 

“Um, just keep going straight ahead and I’ll tell you when you need to turn.” 

Mark nods and holds up his sonic as a light source and carefully makes his way down the hallway, past the corpses of long-dead Daleks. 

“So how did you end up in this mess anyways?” Mark asks, quietly.

“I have no clue, dude,” Darling relies with a sigh, “it was just supposed to be an everyday mission and before we knew it, we crashed and I was stuck here.” 

Mark hums in acknowledgement, “and what about the souffles?”

“It’s my mom’s recipe, I thought perfecting it would be the best way to not forget, y’know?” 

“Well, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you when I get you back home.” 

“I can’t fucking wait to see another human in person.” Darling sighs, “take the next left.” 

Mark complies and has to swallow down his fear as he passes cell after cell, packed with Daleks. “How much farther?” 

“Almost there,” Darling promises, “that’s the good news anyways.” 

Mark stumbles over his feet, “what’s the bad news?” 

“Well, you’re about to enter the worst part of the asylum, intensive care ward. I’m at the very end.”

Mark groans, _of course that’s where he would be._

Mark passes each cell holding his breath, looking in at chained up Daleks, broken Daleks and one that’s just stuck spinning in a circle. “What’s so special about these ones?”

“Let me check…” Darling pauses, “it says that they’re all survivors of certain wars… they were all defeated by… the Predator.” 

Mark stops to look at a particular Dalek, “I thought some of them looked familiar.” 

“But - but how is that possible?” Darling gasped, “these wars have taken place centuries apart?” 

“I’m more than just a pretty face,” he shrugged, “how do you think I became Predator of the Daleks after all?” 

Mark stops at a closed doorway, “ok I think I’m outside, let’s go.” 

“Doc-tor…”

Mark freezes and slowly turns around. The Dalek that was spinning had stopped and was slowly coming towards him. 

“Doc-tor. Doctor. DOCTOR!” 

“That’s weird,” Darling said, sounding far away, “these guys don’t normally wake up…” 

“Yeah well,” Mark laughed, nervously, feeling sweat drip down the back of his neck, “it’s not every day they get a special visitor.” 

The rest of the Daleks slowly wake up and Mark bangs on the door, “let’s go, open up this door!” 

“I’m trying!” Darling stresses, “this door is really complicated!” 

Mark points his sonic at the door, praying that it’ll open. He feels an eyestock poke him in the back and he whips around to kick it away. 

“Doctor! Doctor!” 

_“Open the fucking door!”_

All he gets for a reply is static and Mark presses himself up as close as he can to the door. His body is full of adrenaline as his chest heaves in each breath. 

_This is it. This is really it. I’m gonna fucking die in the Dalek Asylum._

All of a sudden the Dalek’s stopped moving, like they had been turned off. Mark held his breath, terrified that one wrong move would set them off again. 

Just as quickly as they had shut off, they started back up again and their eyestocks spun around for a second before they turned and left, leaving Mark baffled. 

What just happened?” He gasped.

“That’s right bay-bee! Tell me I'm the greatest!” Darling’s voice echoed. 

“What did you do? _What the fuck did you do!?”_ Mark tried to calm his hearts and held his face in his hands. _He almost just died._

“I hacked into the Dalek’s system and deleted everything they know about the Doctor!” Darling said proudly. 

“How - How did you do that? Not even I can do that?”

“Well, why don’t you come and meet the guy who can.”

The door behind him hissed open and Mark almost collapsed in relief. He turns around and drops to his knees in shock, “Darling we have a problem.” 

\--

Ethan pauses as he starts prying out the nails on the last board. 

“Don’t say that now, Mark. Please don’t say that now!” Tears were beginning to well up in his eyes. 

“Does it look real to you?” Mark asks, sadly. 

Ethan drops the hammer and turns to face the monitor. Mark’s sad face stares back at him, and if Ethan looks hard enough, there’s terror in his eyes. “Does what look real?”

Mark pushes himself up and cautiously approaches, “where you are right now? Does it seem real to you?” 

Ethan’s heart rate picks up and he opens his mouth a few times before he clenches his jaw, “of course it’s real! How could it not be real? I’ve been trapped here every day for a year?” 

Mark examines him with pitying eyes, “because the truth was too much for you to bear, so you created this,” he waves his arms in Ethan’s general direction, “to cope with what happened to you.” 

“Where am I? _Mark? Doctor? Where am I?”_

\-- 

Mark swallows down the bile in his throat as he stares hopelessly at a single Dalek, draped in chains. 

“Where am I? Where am I?” Darling’s voice had changed the monotone screech of a Dalek. Mark knew he had to leave, immediately. But he couldn’t leave without telling Darling what he deserved to know.

“I’m sorry, but you’re a Dalek.” 

“NO!” The Dalek screeched, “I am human! I am not a Dalek!” 

“I’m so sorry, Darling, I’m so incredibly sorry. But you are.” Mark said quietly, watching the Dalek struggle in its chains. 

“You were human when you crashed, but not anymore. You lead us down the path you took to get here, before the nanofield and the Dalek’s got to you, and turned you into one of them.” 

“I am human, I am human. I. AM. HUMAN.” 

Mark could only imagine the pain in Darling’s voice as reality crashed in on him, “not anymore.” 

\-- 

Ethan was hidden in his place under the communication system, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. _I am human, I am human, I am human._ He kept repeating to himself, over and over. Holding onto it like a lifeline. 

Memories start to flood in and he tries to repress them, but they’re too strong. He remembers the crash, he remembers navigating through the tunnels to the bunker before being captured by the Daleks. It’s all coming back to him now. 

“The Dalek’s needed someone like you,” Mark’s voice echoes around him. 

Ethan covered his eyes and screamed, trying to block him out, _“you’re wrong! I’m human!”_

Mark ignores him and carries on, “you’re so fucking smart that they decided you were _worthy_ ,” he spits the word out with disgust in his voice, “worthy, of a full conversion.” 

Ethan felt empty, all of his emotions were being drained out of him.

“Think about it, where did the milk and eggs come from? You’ve been here for a year.” 

“Eggs…” Ethan muttered, his head twitching slightly.

“Eggs… stir…” 

\--

Mark flinched back, watching as the Dalek started to move in its chains. 

“Eggs… stir… Ex… Exterminate.”

Mark gasped and stumbled back from the Dalek, “wait, wait, Darling, fight against it! You’ve done it this long, keep fighting!” 

Mark didn’t know if his pleas were falling on empty ears, but his survival instinct was kicking in. 

“Exterminate!”

“Exterminate!” 

The Dalek strained in its chains, and Mark could hear them start to creak in protest.

“Ex… Ex… Ex…” The Dalek trailed off and all Mark could hear between the roaring of his hearts was a garbled mess of a noise… 

A Dalek was crying. 

Mark watched with a mixture of awe and terror as the Dalek cried, the horrible sounds, foreign coming from a Dalek.

“Mark… Mark… I am sorry.” The Dalek croaked, it’s eyestock swinging around. 

“It’s ok, Darling, you can’t help what happened to you,” Mark said quietly. 

“I’ll turn off the forcefield, like I said I would. But… but I want you to promise me something.” 

Mark slowly got to his feet and approached the Dalek, “what is it?”

The Dalek’s eyestock stared right at him, “remember me. I am crewmate, E. Nestor Darling of the S.S. Maine. I fought for my life against the Dalek’s, I did not go gentle into that good night, and _I am human!”_

Mark nodded, amazed that there was a person who could fight against the Dalek’s even as a Dalek. “Okay, I promise, I’ll remember you. I’m so sorry we didn’t get to you sooner.” 

“Run!” The Dalek shrieked. 

Mark took a few steps backward, not wanting to leave Darling behind, but he had no choice. There was nothing left to save. 

“Goodbye, Doctor.” 

“I promise, I will remember you.” Mark told the Dalek with as much conviction as he could before he spun around and bolted towards the transporter. 

He weaved in between confused Daleks and debris as the ceiling above him started to shake. 

“BOB! WADE!” Mark shouted, “start the transporter!” 

“Mark? Is that you?”

“Yes!” He stumbled over the remnants of a Dalek and barely managed to maintain his balance before he was sprinting at full speed again. 

“Start the fucking transporter!” 

He bursts into the transporter room and leaps over Bob’s unconscious body, his sonic held out in front of him. 

“We need to leave _now_.” He commands, already aiming his sonic with one hand and flicking switches and pressing buttons with the other.

“Wait, where’s Darling?” Wade inquires, dragging Bob towards the centre of the transporter. 

Mark stops in his tracks, “he didn’t make it.”

“Oh… I’m sorry Mark.” 

He shakes his head, “it’s fine. I just didn’t get there in time.” 

Having traveled together for so long, Wade knows not to dig any further and instead follows the instructions Mark gives him without any hesitation.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” 

\--

  
  


Back in the Parliament of the Daleks, they all watch and rejoice as the Asylum is destroyed. 

“Victory for the Dalek’s!” screeched the Prime Minister, his eyestock spinning around. 

“Victory! Victory! Victory!” The rest of the Dalek’s shout. 

“Incoming transmission from the Asylum!” one of them shrieked. 

“Impossible! Impossible!” Shouted the Prime Minister. 

The transporter groaned to life and three humans appeared, stumbling upon their landing. 

The man in the front waved his two male companions towards the TARDIS and stood confidently in front of the Prime Minister. 

“You didn’t think you could actually fucking kill me, did you?” The man boasted, a cocky grin on his face. 

“Identify yourself!” Demanded the Prime Minister, followed by a chorus of, “identify!” 

“Oh don’t fuck around, you know who I am. The Predator, the Oncoming Storm! I am the Destroyer of Worlds!” The rage coming off the male would have been enough to terrify anyone else, but not a Dalek. 

“Those titles hold no meaning!” 

The man looks around at the Dalek’s his mouth curled into a snarl, baring his teeth. “What about this one? _I am the Doctor!”_

“Doctor who?” The Prime Minister cried, “Doctor who?” 

The rest of the Dalek’s started shouting along with him, filling Parliament with uncoordinated shouts of, “Doctor who?” 

The man walked back toward the TARDIS, anger still evident on his face, “I will never forgive you for what you did to Darling. Such a clever boy, and you fucking _ruined him!”_

The doors opened with a snap of his fingers, he turned around to face the Parliament one last time, “you’re never gonna stop asking who I am.” 

  
  



	4. The Snowmen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having major formatting issues with this chapter, so hopefully I can figure it out and fix it. 
> 
> But there are some content / trigger warnings for this chapter at the bottom, just a heads up.

**  
London, England, 1892.**

  
  


“I’m here to see Captain Latimer,” requested Walter Simeon.

  
  


The housekeeper looked at him with a slight frown before bowing her head, “I’m sorry sir, but he isn’t accepting visitors at this time of night.” 

  
  


“Tell him it is an urgent matter,” he insisted, annoyance filtering into his voice. 

  
  


“Mary? Mary where have you gone?” echoed a voice from inside the estate. 

  
  


The housekeeper’s eyes widen, “I’m sorry sir, but there is a gentleman here to see you, he insists it’s urgent.” Her grip on the doorframe tightened, “I apologize sir, but I didn’t get your name.” 

  
  


“Simeon,” he responded coolly, “Doctor Simeon.” 

  
  


She quickly nodded her head and stepped aside to let the man he was after take her place. 

  
  


“This is Doctor Simeon, sir.” She said behind him. 

  
  


“Yes? What is it?” Captain Latimer asked, his waistcoat partially off and his shirt untucked. 

  
  


“Come outside with me Captain,” he requested, “I have something I wish to discuss with you.”

The man sighed before asking the housekeeper for his coat. 

  
  


He led the man toward the frozen pond in his courtyard. 

  
  


“The pond has frozen,” Latimer said, as if lost in thought. 

  
  


“Yes,” Simeon replied, “the last time it did so was when your children’s governess drowned last year.” 

  
  


Latimer glanced over at him with wide eyes. 

  
  


“She downed in this very pond, which froze over,” he continued, not taking his eyes off the pond. “She was trapped under there for more than a month before the ice thawed and she could be dragged out.” 

  
  


“Yes, I am very aware of what happened,” Latimer said sharply, “it is the kind of thing that one cannot forget.” 

  
  


“Oh, the ice certainly remembers.” Simeon said darkly. 

  
  


“Who are you, and what do you want?” Latimer demanded, tugging his coat tighter around himself. 

  
  


Simeon turned around to look at him, “the pond may be yours. But what is inside of it, when it is ready, is mine.” 

  
  


“What the bloody hell are you on about?” 

  
  


“Good evening, Captain.” With a tip of his hat, Simeon left the baffled man and housekeeper in the cold, he had more business to attend too. 

  
  


\--

  
  


“You’re out quite late tonight, aren’t you Doctor Simeon?” A female voice called after him. 

  
  


Simeon stopped in his tracks and spun on the spot. A well-dressed man and women were approaching him. 

  
  


“One thing I have always wondered,” the man questioned aloud with a prominent Irish accent, the brim of his top hat shielded his face from view, “was what goes on behind the closed doors of your incredibly private Institution.” 

  
  


“Well, this truly is an honour.” He said in a mocking tone, “the Great Detective in the flesh, and his little sidekick as well.” 

  
  


He took a step towards the man, who kept his head bowed. 

  
  


“I find it mildly humorous that Dr. Doyle has based those foolish little stories of his after the pair of you.” He scoffed, “with of course a few alterations. I can only imagine the stir it would cause if Britons found out that the Great Detective was, _Irish._ ” With a quick movement, he knocked the man’s hat off his head into the muck and spat at his feet. “And a _Catholic_ Irishman as well.” 

  
  


The man scoffed, not bothering to pick up his hat, “our faith is none of your business, Simeon.” 

  
  


“I’m not so sure the same can be said for yourself,” the woman responded, taking the man’s arm, “I find it hard to believe that you are a man of God.” 

  
  


Simeon scoffed, “as charming as this is, I’m afraid I have better things to be doing than entertaining my time with the life of _you people.”_

  
  


As he went to turn around a hand firmly gripped his arm and spun him back around, he met face to face with the cold eyes of the Great Detective. 

  
  


“One last thing before you go,” he released his grip on his arm and scooped up some snow off one of the crates nearby. “This snow truly is astounding. It has a low-level telepathic field.”

  
  


“What of it?” He grit through his teeth.

  
  


“Fascinating isn't it? This snow can detect the thoughts and memories of the people around it. _This snow can learn_.” He let the partially formed snowball fall to the ground and stepped closer, so they’re almost chest to chest. 

  
  


“I just hope this snow is listening to the correct people.” 

  
  


The corner of Simeon’s mouth twitched, “winter is coming. A winter that no human being has ever seen before. No one will be able to stop it.” 

  
  


The Great Detective stepped back, his chin raised high, “I think I know just the man who can.” 

  
  


“Well, I look forward to meeting him.” 

  
  


\--

  
  


Simeon watched his workers carefully scrape snow off of the handful of snowmen that have been assembled in the factory. Trying to shake off the unsettling feeling he had from his earlier encounter. A look of disgust on his face as one of the young boys carrying the full jars to his carriage almost collides with him. 

  
  


_“Watch it!”_ He barked, raising his gloved hand to slap the boy, _“you ungrateful child!”_

  
  


The boy bit back a cry and quickly apologized, “sorry, sir, so sorry, it won’t happen again!” 

  
  


He quickly placed the rest of the jars into the carriage and satisfied with what he had; Simeon signaled to his carriage driver that he was ready to leave. 

  
  


He waited impatiently for the elderly man to open his door for him, before settling down in his closed carriage, free from the cold. 

  
  


After the short carriage ride to his Institution, he watched with an eagle eye as the jars of snow were unloaded and ordered that they be brought inside. 

  
  


Knowing he only had a short time frame before the snow began to melt, Simeon hurried inside waving off the housekeeper waiting to take his coat and hat. 

  
  


The jars of snow are already waiting for him on a cart, outside the set of large double doors. He grabbed the largest and readied himself before entering the room. 

  
  


He was met with sparks of electricity as the large glass globe full of snow in the center of the room swirls to life. 

  
  


“The last of the arrivals has been sampled,” he announced to the globe. 

  
  


“the Great Swarm is approaching.” The globe responded, sending out more sparks, “as humanity celebrates, so shall it end.” 

  
  


Simeon calmly walked up the few steps leading up the globe before turning a latch to open it. He bowed his head, “I serve you in this, as in everything else.” 

  
  


“And have you kept my secret? From those who helped us on this night?” 

  
  


“They will not be a problem,” Simeon assured, dumping the snow into the open latch. “I promised to feed them.” 

Simeon looked toward the doors leading to the balcony, knowing that the men from earlier would be waiting in the courtyard below. 

  
  


He can hear the chatter of the men as he approaches, he sneered at the thought of having so much as an interaction with one of those lowlifes. But he had his mission, and he knows what he must do.

  
  


“Beg pardon, Doctor Simeon,” one of them asked as soon as he’s in sight. “It’s been a long day, an’ I don’ see any food.” 

  
  


He stared coolly out at the men, “I do.” 

  
  


All of a sudden, snowmen with razor sharp fangs burst from the ground, attacking the men. 

  
  


“What is this?” One of the men cried over the sounds of screams. 

  
  


“I said I’d feed you,” he replied calmly as the men are devoured, “I never said _to whom,”_

  
  


He doesn’t stay to watch the snowmen finish, instead choosing to return inside, to the globe. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Ethan expertly weaved his way through the crowd and tables at The Black Dog pub, picking up empty tankards as he goes. He made sure that every patron had what they needed before he took his full tray back to the kitchen. It’s already well into the early hours of the morning, but he still makes time to chat with his regulars when he isn’t running back and forth to get people more ale. 

  
  


When he’s confident that everyone has what they need, he sneaks out the back door for a quick breather, the icy air a shock to his senses. 

  
  


As he carefully closed the door, so the latch won’t lock him out he turned around and was startled to see a large snowman with a menacing face and sharp teeth staring back at him. 

  
  


He looked down the back alley to see a man in a top hat not too far away. 

  
  


“Excuse me, sir!” He shouted, “did you make this snowman?” 

  
  


“No.” The man responded in an American accent; his tone cold. He maintained his stride. 

  
  


“Well who did?” Ethan had had a long night and he was not going to let himself be spoken to in such a rude manner by some Yank playing the part of an aristocrat who thought he was above him. “Because it just appeared… from nowhere.” 

  
  


The man stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around to look at Ethan. His eyes were cold and uninterested, but he approached Ethan, nonetheless. As he got closer, Ethan was taken aback by his appearance. He had never seen such a scruffy beard on a man of this status, and it was clear that he had not taken the time to gel his hair down either from the way his raven hair poked out from under his top hat. 

  
  


The man reached into his overcoat and pulled out a pair of wiry spectacles, settling them on the bridge of his nose. He walked around the snowman, the light flickering from the lone oil lamp in the alleyway casting shadows upon his face. 

  
  


“Maybe it was snow that fell before. Maybe it was snow that remembers how to make snowmen.” He idly flicked a finger at the head of the snowman before looking back at Ethan.

  
  


“What?” Ethan looked at the man like he had grown another limb, “snow that can remember? That sounds like a silly children’s tale.” 

  
  


“What’s wrong with silly?” He inquired; an eyebrow raised. In this light, Ethan can’t make out the colour of his eyes, the fire from the lamp casting images of the light across the lenses. 

  
  


“Nothing,” Ethan quipped, “the only silly thing ‘round here is your voice.” 

  
  


He cocked his eyebrow at the man who returned it with an amused smile. 

  
  


“What’s your name?” He asked as he returned his spectacles to his coat pocket. 

  
  


“Ethan.” 

  
  


The man nodded his head, “Ethan. An interesting name.” 

  
  


The look he gave Ethan made his heart beat in a way that made Ethan uncomfortable. With a curt nod, the man is on his way again and Ethan barely has a second to think before he’s acting on instinct, quickly following after the man. 

  
  


“Hey!” He yelled after him. “Where do you think you’re going? We were just getting to know one another!” 

  
  


The man stopped again and looked over his shoulder, looking back at Ethan with sad eyes. “Those were the days,” he said, before carrying on into the night. Leaving Ethan, hopelessly confused. 

  
  


Ethan bit his lip, looking back at the backdoor to the pub. _They’ll be fine without me for a little while longer_ , he rationalized. He quickly untied his apron before dashing down the alleyway, careful not to slip in the slush and muck. He came to a crossroads, panting quickly as he caught sight of a carriage. Something in him tells him that the man is in there and he almost slipped on a patch of ice as he sprints after it. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Mark slumped down back in his seat, the cobblestone roads bouncing him around slightly as he listened to Tyler drone on and on through the partition to the driver’s seat of the carriage. 

  
  


“- ere talking with?” 

  
  


Mark ignored him as he kept his eyes intently on the streets outside the carriage. Frowning as they pass a few children on the street, trying to sell people single matches. 

  
  


_“Doctor? Are you even listening to me?”_

  
  


Mark rolled his eyes, “not really. What were you saying?” 

  
  


Tyler sighed, “I asked you who that boy you were talking with was.” 

  
  


He shrugged, “some barman, I assume. Didn’t stick around long enough to find out. Those days are over.” 

  
  


“I doubt that. For some reason, people can’t stay away from you.” 

  
  


Normally Mark would’ve made a sarcastic comment, but instead he just shook his head, “not this time.” 

  
  


“You can’t help yourself!” Tyler insisted. “It’s the same story, over and over again.” 

  
  


_“Enough!”_ Mark stomped his boot against the floor of the carriage. “He’ll never see me again and has no way to find me. He doesn’t even know who The Doctor is!” 

  
  


A bump on the roof of the carriage has Mark instinctively reaching into his coat pocket for his sonic, aiming it up at the closed sunroof as it pops open, revealing the boy from the pub. 

  
  


“Doctor?” He said, a glint in his eyes, “Doctor who?” 

  
  


\--

  
  


Ethan held on for dear life as he watched the man from earlier jump in his seat.

  
  


“What the fuck!” He shouted, dropping the object in his hand before reaching out, with a baffled expression. “What are you doing?” 

  
  


“Well that wasn’t very polite was it? What kind of doctor swears at innocent people?” Ethan remarked, feeling the blood rush to his skull.

  
  


“Tyler, _stop the carriage!”_

  
  


The carriage quickly stopped, and the loss of motion caused Ethan to slip further inside, the man awkwardly trying to help lower him inside. 

  
  


“What were you thinking?” He demanded as they got Ethan straightened out in the seat across from him.

  
  


Ethan shrugged, “I wanted to continue our conversation from earlier.” 

  
  


The man’s mouth opened to retort, but nothing came out. He looked like he had something to say but didn’t know what.

  
  


The door to the carriage opened and the man who must have been Tyler, had a concerned look on his face. “Mark, can I have a word with you outside please?” 

  
  


“Mark?” Ethan parrots, like the man had earlier, “an interesting name.” 

  
  


Mark gave him a glare with no heat behind it and pointed a finger at him, “you! Don’t move, I need to have a word with my driver.” 

  
  


“Driver?” Tyler squawked, “fuck off with that.”

  
  


Mark groaned and rubbed his temples, “I don’t have the patience to deal with this.”

  
  


He slid out of the carriage and before Ethan could climb out, the open door and sunroof that Ethan had slid inside through slammed shut. 

  
  


Ethan’s eyes widened and he reached for the door handle. It wouldn’t budge. 

  
  


“Hey!” He shouted, Mark and Tyler a short distance away. “Let me out!” 

  
  


\--

  
  


“What is it?” Mark asks quietly, huddling closer to Tyler so Ethan can’t see what they’re saying. 

  
  


“They’re been taking samples from snowmen all across the city,” Tyler tells him, nonchalantly watching a Walter Simeon Institution carriage drive by. 

  
  


Mark crouched on his heels, taking a small snowball in his hands, “this snow is fresh,” he muttered to himself, “possibly alien.” 

  
  


He lets it fall from his fingers, “when you find something new that you don’t completely understand, what do you do?” 

  
  


Tyler shrugged, glancing back at the carriage where Ethan was banging on the door to be let out. 

  
  


“Find a way to make a profit,” he spat, “good ole Victorian values. You can thank Adam Smith for that. _Father of Capitalism.”_

  
  


“So, what are we gonna do about it?” Tyler asked. 

  
  


Mark shrugged, “it’s none of our business.” 

  
  


Tyler gave him a look, “you’re not doing anything? At all?” 

  
  


Mark started back towards the carriage, Ethan’s shouts getting louder. 

  
  


“It’s not our problem. I spent over a thousand years of my life saving the universe. The one thing I learned was that the universe doesn’t care.” 

  
  


“Mark,” the pity in Tyler’s eyes made him want to vomit, “when are you gonna let Bo-”

  
  


_“Don’t!”_ Mark seethed, stepping into Tyler’s space and grabbing his shoulders, _“don’t you dare say their names!”_

  
  


“You need to forgive yourself and let them go.” 

  
  


Mark put as much venom and hatred in the glare he gave Tyler before he stomped around and marched towards the carriage. 

  
  


\-- 

  
  


“Let me out!” Ethan screamed, shoving his once slicked down hair out of his face as he kicked at the carriage door. 

  
  


He looked at Mark with wild eyes as he approached and slid towards the far wall of the carriage as Mark reclaimed his seat. 

  
  


“Don’t worry,” Mark sighs, “you’re fine.” 

  
  


He cautiously eyed Mark and Tyler, “why should I believe you?” 

  
  


“Because you aren’t going to remember. Tyler, get the worm.” 

  
  


“Get the _what?”_ Ethan squeaked, frantically looking between the two men. 

  
  


“It’ll be ok,” Mark assured, “one touch to the skin and you’ll forget this whole night even happened.” 

  
  


Ethan was confused, “what do you mean forget? I don’t want to forget anything.” 

  
  


“I know, but it’s for the best,” Mark soothed. 

  
  


Tyler wondered back by the open door to the carriage and looked inside, _“oh!_ I’m sorry sir, I didn’t realize you had company.” 

  
  


Mark groaned, “Tyler why didn’t you wear the gloves?” 

  
  


“Gloves for what?” He asked, glancing between the two of them.

  
  


_“For the memory worm!”_ Mark banged his head against the carriage and gestured for Ethan to get out. “Alright, out you go.” 

  
  


With his heart pumping in his chest, Ethan cautiously stepped out of the carriage, his mind racing back and forth from confused to curious. “Who are you?” 

  
  


Mark flapped his hand, “not important. What is important is that Tyler finds that damned worm.” 

  
  


“Yeah, yeah I’m going.” 

  
  


Ethan watched as Mark pinched the bridge of his nose, scrunching his face in annoyance. 

  
  


“Don’t you even think of going anywhere!” Mark warned. 

  
  


Ethan snorted, “and why would I do that when I could stay here and watch the show. I may be scared, but we both know what’s gonna happen next and it’s funny.” If Tyler had already fallen victim to this _memory worm_ once, it was bound to happen again. It was worth staying around a little longer. 

  
  


Mark ignored him and turned back to watch as Tyler wiggled his way under the carriage. 

  
  


“Almost got it,” he strained. 

  
  


“Perfect. Then we finally get this over with.” Mark sighed, glancing back at him. 

  
  


Ethan shivered and wrapped his arms around himself for warmth. Standing out in the cold for so long had made him realize what a stupid decision it was to not bring his coat. 

  
  


“For god’s sake, where’s your coat?” Mark exclaimed, looking at him with mild concern as he started undoing the buttons of his overcoat. 

  
  


Ethan shook his head, “it’s fine, it’s back at the pub. I didn’t really think of the cold when I ran after you.” 

  
  


“Clearly.” he held his coat out to Ethan, “please take mine.” 

  
  


Ethan was baffled that a man of Mark’s stature would offer such an expensive item of clothing to someone like Ethan. But the genuine look on his face, paired with the cold that was seeping into his bones had Ethan reaching out with a tentative hand as he took the coat from him, “thank you.” 

  
  


Mark didn’t take his eyes off him as he slid the overcoat on, his cold fingers fumbling with the buttons. “Is that better?” 

  
  


Ethan nodded, already feeling Mark’s residual warmth heating him up. 

  
  


“Tyler, how's it going with that worm?” Mark asked. 

  
  


Tyler crawled out from under the carriage with a confused look on his face, “the what?” 

  
  


“Oh, for fucks sake. If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.” Mark grabbed the gloves from Tyler and gave him a nasty look before he crawled under the carriage. 

  
  


Mark’s legs thrashed around as he tried to wrangle the worm and Ethan finally let himself think about what had just transpired. 

  
  


_Mark was no average aristocrat._ He thought to himself, tugging Mark’s coat tighter around himself. _He calls himself the Doctor, has some form of memory altering worm, and knows more about the magic snow than he lets on._

  
  


Ethan snapped out of his thoughts as Mark shouted for Tyler to grab a jar to put the worm inside. 

  
  


As he slid out from under the carriage, Ethan finally got a glance at this worm. Ugly is the only way to describe it, long, fat and putting up a good fight against the death grip that Mark had on it. 

  
  


“One touch from that thing and you’ll lose a few hours. But if it bites you, you’ll lose decades.” Mark told him as he shoved the worm inside the jar. 

  
  


Ethan was hopelessly confused, but there was something about this _Doctor_ that he couldn’t seem to run away from.

  
  


“Why haven’t you run away yet?” Mark asked as he pushed his hair out of his face. 

  
  


“How’d that snowman build itself?” Ethan demanded. 

  
  


Mark pondered for a second before he abruptly asked, “Ethan who?” 

  
  


“Doctor who?” Ethan quips back, automatically. 

  
  


“Now that’s a dangerous question, “Mark told him, leaning back against the carriage. 

  
  


“What’s wrong with dangerous?” Ethan inquired, a small grin on his face.

  
  


Motion out of the corner of his eye has Ethan quickly turning to face the snowman from behind the pub. He staggers back in surprise as it had appeared just like the other one. 

  
  


“Mark!” He gasped, glancing over to see the man talking about the snow. 

  
  


“Mark!” He tried again, panic creeping into his voice. 

  
  


Mark continued his explanation, oblivious to Ethan’s fear. 

  
  


_“Doctor!”_ He reached forward and grabbed Mark’s elbow, dragging him away from the carriage and facing the snowman. “My snowman.” 

  
  


“Ah,” Mark rubbed his hands together, his brow furrowed, “that’s interesting. Were you thinking about it?” 

  
  


“Yes,” Ethan said cautiously, his eyes flickering between Mark and the snowman. 

  
  


“Well,” Mark drawled, “stop.” 

  
  


More snowmen appeared and began to box the two of them against the side of a building. 

  
  


“Ethan,” Mark urged, grabbing his face in his cold hands, “I need you to stop thinking about the snowmen. The snow is using your thoughts to create them.” 

  
  


Ethan tried to shake his head, “I don’t understand.” 

  
  


Mark looked right into his eyes and Ethan got his answer from earlier about the colour of his eyes. “They’re feeding off your fear to create more of them. The more you think about them, the more they appear. Imagine them melting.” 

  
  


Ethan frantically looked around as more and more snowmen appeared, almost touching Mark’s back. “I-I can’t!” 

  
  


“You, can,” Mark insisted, his hands the only thing keeping Ethan grounded, “I know you can. Imagine them melting.” 

  
  


Ethan closed his eyes and thought of the heat of summer. The sweat on the back of his neck and the sun in his eyes. _There isn’t any snow in August._ He tells himself, desperately hoping that this will work. 

  
  


With a loud whoosh, Ethan was doused in cold water. His eyes shot open and Mark was still holding onto him and he also appeared to be wet. The snowmen were gone. 

  
  


“Very good,” he said, a proud glint in his eye, “amazing.” 

  
  


Ethan leaned against the building, a hand on his chest to calm his heart, “will that happen again?” 

  
  


“Well,” Mark starts, heading back towards the carriage, “if it does, you’ll know what to do about it, won’t you?” 

  
  


Ethan looked over to where he can still see the lid of the jar containing the memory worm, “unless I forget,” he says pointedly. 

  
  


Mark sighed and gestured towards the carriage, “I suppose you’re right.” 

  
  


Ethan takes a tentative step forward, afraid that more snowmen will appear, before he gets into Mark’s carriage. 

  
  


Mark stands in the doorframe, “don’t come looking for me,” he ordered. 

  
  


“But,” Ethan’s confusion has come back, “but if there’s killer snow, shouldn’t we be warning people?” 

  
  


Mark gave him a sad smile, “that’s not my problem.” 

  
  


He closed the door and wished him a good night, “Tyler, take Ethan back to the pub please.” 

  
  


Ethan felt the carriage shift as Tyler got settled and before he knew it, Mark’s silhouette was getting smaller in the night. 

  
  


Ethan can’t let him get away, not when he had so many questions that need answers. He tried the door handle and said a prayer of thanks that the door opened this time and as quietly as he can, jumped out of the carriage and hurried towards where he last saw Mark. 

  
  


It doesn’t take long for him to find Mark’s footprints, the only ones in the blanket of fresh snow and Ethan is quick to follow them. 

  
  


He finds Mark walking around an empty park, whistling to himself and glancing up at the trees. Ethan made sure he’s out of sight and watched as Mark jumped into the air and seemingly pulled down a ladder from nowhere. 

  
  


_What the Devil have you got yourself into, Nestor?_ He asked himself, watching in amazement as Mark just disappears into the sky, the ladder retracting up after it. 

  
  


Ethan makes sure there’s no one around before he stealthily sneaks his way into the park and stands in the same spot Mark had just been. He looks up to see nothing but branches. _How does he do these things?_

  
  


Ethan jumped and reached into the air, hoping to somehow find the ladder that Mark had grabbed, but his hands were met with air. Frowning, Ethan looked up again and tried again, he crouched down, trying to get as much momentum as he can leaps into the air, his hand snagging on solid metal. 

  
  


“Yes!’ He cheered, pulling the ladder down. 

  
  


He looked around to see if there was anyone around to see what had happened before, he started his ascent up the ladder. His movements get more confident with every step he takes, eager to see what awaits him at the top. 

  
  


The branches are getting thinner and Ethan can see a metal structure just a few more feet ahead of him. He found himself at the base of a spiral staircase and carefully climbed up onto the bottom step. 

  
  


He turns to look down at the city, a few people still wandering the streets at the late hour. He has no idea how no one can see the giant metal staircase in the sky, but weirder things have happened to Ethan tonight. 

  
  


He climbed higher and higher into the night sky, past the layer of smoke from people’s chimney’s and Ethan was amazed at how many stars he could see in the sky. It only encouraged him to climb faster, wanting to see how high he’ll go. 

  
  


He reached the clouds and can hardly see anything in front of him before he emerges at the top of the staircase, bursting out from underneath them. The first thing that caught his eye was the large blue booth sitting in the middle of the cloud, as if floating. _Does Mark live there?_

  
  


“Police Public Call Box”, Ethan read from atop the booth, looking down, wondering how he’s going to get to it. 

  
  


He holds onto the railing and cautiously puts his foot out, feeling around in the cloud until he finds something solid. _That can’t be._

  
  


He puts more weight onto the foot and gasps when it holds his weight. Very carefully he takes a step with his other foot, and it too finds a solid surface. 

  
  


Ethan very quickly realized that he doesn’t have a plan and doesn’t know how Mark will react, or if Mark is even in there. 

  
  


An idea quickly pops into his head as he realizes that he is still in fact wearing Mark’s coat and that it would be completely acceptable for him to be here to return it. 

  
  


Ethan undid the buttons and carefully took the coat off, delicately draping it over his arm. 

  
  


He cautiously makes his way over to the box before raising his hand to knock on the door. 

  
  


As soon as he does it, panic sets in and he hides behind the box, hearing sounds coming from inside. 

  
  


“Hello?” Mark’s confused voice calls out into the night.

  
  


Ethan held his breath and listened to Mark’s movements. 

  
  


“Hello?” He called again, a little louder. “Sean is that you?” 

  
  


Ethan peaked around the side of the box and when he saw that Mark wasn't there he dashed to the staircase, accidently dropping Mark’s coat as he took the stairs two at a time. 

  
  


\--

  
  


“Tonight, is The Thaw,” the globe announced, snow swirling wildly as Simeon poured another jar of snow inside. “Tomorrow the snow will fall again, stronger. The drowned woman and dreaming child will give us what we need, at long last. Tomorrow, mankind will fall with the snow.” 

  
  


\-- 

  
  


“Come on, Ethan. Won’t you stay a little while longer?” The pub owner asked, “you get along real well with our patrons.”

  
  


Ethan picked up his suitcase and looked back at the man as he pushed the pub door open, “I’m afraid I can’t. I was just doing you a favour and I have my own work to get back too.” 

  
  


He’s taken aback as he stepped outside and was met with a rush of warm air, a stark contrast to the snow that had fallen the night before. “It must have melted in the night.” 

  
  


The pub owner nodded, “good riddance, never liked the cold anyway.” 

  
  


He rested his hand on Ethan’s shoulder, “but you’re welcome here all year round. Don’t be a stranger.” 

  
  


He smiled at the man, “I promise I’ll see you soon. I have a carriage to catch.” 

  
  


He hurried to the carriage he could see waiting for him at the end of the street, not wanting to keep them waiting any longer. It was a long ride to the other side of town. He thanked the driver for opening his door for him and settled himself in on the luxurious leather seat.

  
  


As soon as the carriage started to move, Ethan opened his suitcase and started undoing the buttons of his shirt. Ethan undressed as quickly as he could and carefully started to pull on the items of clothing required by members of Captain Latimer’s staff. 

  
  


He barely has enough time to finish polishing his shoes before the driver pulled up the driveway of the Latimer estate. He made sure his hair was acceptable and that all his other clothes were packed back in his suitcase. He straightened his posture and rolls his shoulders back, just in time for the driver to open his door, Mary the head housekeeper waiting for him. 

  
  


“How are you this fine morning, Mary?” He inquired, putting on his posh accent. 

  
  


Mary rolled her eyes, “I shouldn’t need to tell you this, governor, but you are not allowed to use this entrance unless accompanied by one of the children.” 

  
  


Ethan smirked, “well, I guess this will be our little secret then. How are the children?” 

  
  


The two of them enter the main entrance and Ethan is welcomed by the fresh scent of the home. Grateful to not be smelling stale ale and vomit like he had been for the past few weeks. 

  
  


“Well,” Mary started, “Franny is the same as ever. Digby on the other hand said he missed you every day that you were gone. And Captain Latimer would like to have a word with you, once you’ve gotten settled back in.” 

  
  


Ethan nodded his head and waved hello at a few of the other housekeepers. “Of course, tell him I will see him shortly.” Ethan stopped when they arrived at the door to his quarters, “every day you said?” 

  
  


Mary laughed, “the little bugger was always asking when you’d come back. He missed you dearly.” 

  
  


“That’s my boy,” Ethan smiled as he entered his room, “I’ll talk to you later, Mary!” 

  
  


Ethan hurried to set his suitcase down and adjusted his tie and collar making sure he had his white gloves on before heading up to the Captain’s office. 

  
  


“Captain Latimer?” He questioned with a knock to the large oak door, “you said you wanted to see me, sir?” 

  
  


“Yes, come in Mr. Darling.” 

  
  


Ethan pushed the large door open and closed it behind him to see the Captain looking out the large window at the estate grounds. “I apologize for my absence sir, I had family matters to attend to.” 

  
  


“That is quite alright, Mr. Darling. You’ve returned at just the right time.” He walked over to the large fireplace that held a large portrait of his children above it. “Francesca’s been having nightmares for the last week.” 

  
  


Ethan cocked his head in confusion, “young children usually do have nightmares, sir.” 

  
  


Captain Latimer shook his head, “she won’t tell anyone what these nightmares were about, she’s terrified. And since children are not my area of expertise, I was hoping you could get to the bottom of it.” 

  
  


Ethan nodded his head, “of course sir, I will see to them right away. Was there anything else you wished to discuss?” 

  
  


The Captain shook his head, “no, you’re excused.” 

  
  


Ethan bowed his head and excited the Captain’s office, relaxing his posture as soon as he heard it click closed. 

  
  


_What a moron,_ he thought to himself, _can’t even console his own children._

  
  


But he wasn’t going to complain, that was what he was hired for, and Captain Latimer paid him well to make sure his children received the best care. 

  
  


He found the children out in the courtyard, chasing each other around. He strode out to meet them and he knew the exact moment they both saw him because Francesca’s eyes went wide and she nearly tripped, causing her younger brother to collide into her. 

  
  


“Mr. Darling, you’re back!” She gasped, quickly brushing the dirt off her dress and hurrying over to meet him. 

  
  


“Hello, Francesca,” he said, holding out his hand. Manners and etiquette were one of the most crucial responsibilities he oversaw. 

  
  


“H-hello, Mr. Darling,” Francesca stuttered, shaking his hand and doing a wobbly curtsy. Ethan found the crush the twelve-year-old was harbouring towards him cute. It was almost as cute as the way her younger brother looked up to him. 

  
  


Digby hurried to stand next to his sister, still slightly dirty and with one too many buttons undone on his coat. But he still straightened his posture and held out his hand, “hello, Mr. Darling.” 

  
  


“Hello, Digby,” he laughed, “you might want to do those buttons up before your Father sees. 

  
  


Digby’s eyes went wide and he looked down at his chest, his fingers fumbling over the top button. 

  
  


“Here, Digs, I’ll help you,” Ethan delicately pushed the seven-year-olds hands away and went as slow as possible to show him how to do it. “You just push the button through the hole like this, see?” 

  
  


“Thank you, Mr. Darling!” Digby smiled, revealing his gap-toothed smile. 

  
  


“What did you get up to while I was away?” He asked. 

  
  


“I wrote some poetry,” Francesca said, proudly raising her chin. 

  
  


“Well, I did some drawings!” Digby boasted, his chest puffing out. 

  
  


“How exciting!” Ethan exclaimed, he guided them towards the stone bench in the middle of the courtyard. “Now Fran, your Father tells me that you’ve been having nightmares? What’s wrong?” 

  
  


Francesca sat down on the bench and bunched her dress in her hands, “they’re about our old governess, the one who died.” 

  
  


“She’s haunting Franny from beyond the grave!” Digby joked. 

  
  


The look of embarrassment on Francesca’s face told Ethan that it was far more serious than a joke. “Why have you not mentioned this to your Father?” He asked. 

  
  


Francesca put her head down, ‘you can’t talk about things like that with Daddy.” 

  
  


Ethan rested his hand on her shoulder, looking up to the window in Captain Latimer’s office to see the man staring out at them. Ethan ignored the man's stares and rubbed his hand on Francesca’s shoulder. “You could try.” 

  
  


“Want me to show you where she died?” Digby asked, completely unable to read the tone of the conversation. 

  
  


“Only if Fran says it's ok,” Ethan told him, looking to Francesca for permission. 

  
  


She nodded her head and quickly stood up, “lead the way Digs.” 

  
  


Digby lead them towards the pond in the courtyard, a thin layer of ice visible, despite the warm weather. “She fell in there and it froze over. She was trapped in there for days and days.” 

  
  


“Don’t get too close, Digby,” Ethan warned, not liking the eerie feeling he got from looking at it. 

  
  


“I hated her,” Digby continued, “she was always cross all the time. In Franny’s dreams she’s still under there, waiting to come out and get us.” 

  
  


Ethan cautiously approached the pond and leaned over the ledge to look at the ice. “Everything has thawed,” he tapped on the ice, “but this pond is still frozen.” 

  
  


He thought back to what Mark had said to him a few nights before, _the snow is feeding off your fear._ _The more you think about them, the more they appear._

  
  


Ethan stood up straight and looked over at Francesca, a look of discomfort on her face. 

  
  


“Fran, this is important, when you dream, what is it about?” 

  
  


Francesca looked over at her brother before she sighed, “she’s always mad at me, she says I’ve been naughty.” She took a stuttering breath, “and that she’s going to come out of the pond and punish me.” 

  
  


Ethan’s heart rate increased, “when does she say she’s going to come back?” 

  
  


“The night of the full moon. Tonight,” Francesca confirmed. 

  
  


“Well I think Franny’s gone mad,” Digby interrupted “don’t you? Maybe she should see a doctor.” 

  
  


\-- 

  
  


Ethan made sure the children were knee deep in their studying before he told Mary that he had some quick errands to run and that he would be right back. 

  
  


The whole carriage ride to Mark’s park, he was a nervous mess. He hoped that Mark would help Francesca, because he had seen first-hand how dangerous the snow was. 

  
  


When he arrived at the park, Ethan groaned, seeing just how much traffic the park saw during the day. But he steeled himself and hoped that whatever made the staircase invisible in the first place would do the same for him. 

  
  


He craned his neck to look up and make sure he was in the right place before he leapt into the air, his hands swinging wildly, but not making contact with the ladder. He tried a few more times before he noticed a crowd of people staring and whispering at him. He knew how he looked, a governor jumping wildly into the air trying to grab nothing. _They probably thought he was mad._

  
  


Ethan groaned and leaned against one of the three trunks, smacking his fist against the bark.

  
  


“Mark! Doctor! Whoever you are, I need you!” He shouted, only drawing more looks and whispers to himself. 

  
  


“I think that’s quite enough,” A woman's voice hissed, Ethan perking up at the strange accent. 

  
  


He looked over to see a well-dressed woman hurrying towards him. 

  
  


“You wouldn’t want to attract more attention to yourself, would you?” She scolded, hooking her arm between his own as she tried to pull him away. 

  
  


“Who are you?” He demanded, planting his feet on the ground, trying to resist her. 

  
  


“You’re looking for the Doctor, aren’t you?” She said quietly, giving him another tug. 

  
  


“Do you know the Doctor?” Ethan questioned, allowing the woman to lead him away from the park. 

  
  


“Doctor?” She questioned mischievously, “Doctor who?” 

  
  


Ethan breathed out a sigh of relief, “so you know where to find hi-”

  
  


“My name is Evelien; you should come with me.” 

  
  


\--

  
  


Ethan looked at the estate they arrived at with wide eyes. It was almost bigger than Captain Latimers. Evelien thanked the driver and motioned for Ethan to get out. He brushed down his coat and nervously followed her inside, surprised to see Tyler waiting in the foyer. 

  
  


“It’s good to see you again, Ethan,” he said, “can I take your coat?” 

  
  


“Yes, thank you,“ he said as he handed the man his coat, “it’s good to see you as well.” 

  
  


“Right this way,” Evelien said, leading him into the parlour. 

  
  


Ethan looked around in wonder at the intricacies and elegant decor of the estate. He stopped short when he saw a man sitting in a chair, sipping tea. 

  
  


He gestured for Ethan to take the chair opposite, “please take a seat.” 

  
  


Ethan recoiled at the Irish accent, glancing back at Evelien who met him with a serious expression. 

  
  


“Is there a problem?” He asked, a stormy look in his eyes. 

  
  


Ethan quickly shook his head and took the seat, “no, no. Not at all. I’m -” he paused to think of the right way to say what he’s feeling. “I’ve never really…” 

  
  


“Interacted with an Irish person?” The man guessed, “I can tell. You Englishmen have us all wrong. But you work for one of the wealthiest men in the country, so I can excuse your ignorance, this time.” 

  
  


Ethan nods his head, “it won’t happen again, sir.” 

  
  


“Ask me anything you want,” the man took a sip of his tea, “but only with one word.” 

  
  


Ethan’s mind raced as he thought of how to best get across what he wanted to know. “Why.” Is what he settles on. 

  
  


“Truth is singular,” the man starts, “lies are just words.” 

  
  


He set his cup down on the table, “you’ve met the Doctor, haven’t you?” 

  
  


“Yes.” Ethan nodded his head; he can feel his palms starting to sweat in his gloves. 

  
  


“And now you’ve come looking for him again. Why?” 

  
  


Ethan glanced back at Evelien, who leveled him with a look, “take your time. One word.” 

  
  


“Curiosity.” Ethan thought would be the best word.

  
  


“About?” 

  
  


“Snow.” Ethan made eye contact with the man, his eyes giving away nothing. 

  
  


“And him?” 

  
  


“Yes.” He responded immediately. 

  
  


“What do you want from him?” 

  
  


“Help.”

  
  


“Why?” 

  
  


“Danger.” Ethan swallowed down a lump in his throat at the thought of what could happen to Francesca if he can’t get to Mark. 

  
  


The man crossed his legs and tilted his head, “why should he help you?” 

  
  


Ethan thought back to the way Mark had made sure to protect him from the snowmen. “Kindness.” 

  
  


The man let out a humourless laugh, “the Doctor isn’t kind.” 

  
  


Ethan furrowed his brow in confusion, “no?” 

  
  


“No.” The man responded, “The Doctor doesn’t help people. Not anyone, not ever.” 

  
  


Ethan felt his heart sink. 

  
  


“He stands above this world and its inhabitants. He is not your saviour, and he is certainly not your protector.” 

  
  


The man stared at him, “do you understand what I’m saying to you?” 

  
  


“Words.” Ethan couldn’t put together the image of Mark this man was describing to him, with the version he met the other night.

  
  


The man cocked his eyebrow in surprise, “he used to be different. A long time ago. He was kind. Some would go as far as to call him a hero.” 

  
  


The man stood up and walked to look out the window, his hands in his pockets, “he was the saviour of worlds. But he suffered losses that have left him deeply hurt. Now he’d rather rot alone in isolation than deal with that pain again.” 

  
  


“Human,” Ethan said, trying to get across that what Mark is probably feeling is understandable after a great loss. 

  
  


The man looked back at Evelien in surprise before nodding his head. “My name is Sean. We are the Doctor’s friends. We help him stay isolated, but that doesn’t mean we approve of it.” 

  
  


Ethan looked between the two, cautiously optimistic. 

  
  


“One last test,” Sean declared, returning to his seat. 

  
  


Ethan took a deep breath, readying himself. 

  
  


“Give me a message to tell the Doctor. All your fears about the snow and the danger it poses. But most importantly, _why_ he should help you.” Sean leaned back in his chair, “but keep it to one word.

  
  


Ethan looked at him like he was crazy. _One word_ to tell Mark why he needed to help Francesca. 

  
  


Sean gave him a knowing look, “you probably think that this is an impossible task. That there is no word to get your point across. Well.” He stands up and heads toward the large ornate desk and picks up a telephone. “Let’s see if God is on your side.” 

  
  


\-- 

  
  


Mark flinched in surprise as his phone started to ring. His shock quickly flared to annoyance as he lost his spot in the book he was reading. 

  
  


“What is it?” He demanded, cradling the phone to his ear, “I’m trying to read.” 

  
  


“Ethan was here with concerns over the snow,” Sean’s tinny voice told him, “I just gave him the one-word test.” 

  
  


Mark rolled his eyes, “that test of yours is pointless.” 

  
  


“Listen, Mark,” Sean sighed, “Ethan has ended up right in the middle of this Simeon fiasco. He doesn’t realize it, but he’s in a lot of danger.” 

  
  


Mark’s stomach clenched at the thought of anything happening to Ethan. “Sean…”

  
  


“You can wallow in your own self-pity all you want. But there is a real danger coming that we know very little about.” Sean’s voice cut out through some static, “Mark we need your help.” 

  
  


Mark banged his head against the back of his chair and exhaled, “I’ll be there soon.”

  
  


“Thank you,” the relief in Sean’s voice caused Mark to pause, wondering just how much his self-isolation had pained his friends. 

  
  


\--

  
  


“Danger.” The globe spoke abruptly, causing Simeon to look up from his work.

  
  


“What do you mean?” He asked. 

  
  


“There is danger near,” the globe repeated, sparks flying around the room wildly. “There is an intelligence present, one that is far beyond this time and place.” 

  
  


A sharp knock on the laboratory door caused Simeon to flinch, “what is it?” 

  
  


“Apologies sir,” a young man said, “but there is someone demanding to see you.” 

  
  


“I receive no visitors, not here, not ever.” 

  
  


“But sir,” the man glanced back at the door, “it’s _Sherlock Holmes.”_

  
  


The doors burst open, revealing a man in a trench coat, holding a cane and smoking a pipe. 

  
  


“Ah yes,” he declared, “what a nice office, with an intriguing, globy-thing.” 

  
  


The man glanced around the room, with his eyes narrowed before he stopped in front of the globe. 

  
  


“Sir, I hope you are perfectly aware that I know Sherlock Holmes is a fictional character. Get out!” He demanded. 

  
  


The man ignored him and continued to examine the office, causing Simeon’s forehead to sweat with worry. 

  
  


“Who do you think you are, and what are you doing here?” 

  
  


“This.” 

  
  


The man ran around him and raised his cane to swing wildly at the globe, “wakey-wakey!” he shouted, the snow swirling angrily inside as sparks flew across the room. 

  
  


_“Stop this at once!”_ He demanded, racing over to grab the cane from the man. 

  
  


“We are the Great Intelligence!” The globe announced, causing the man’s eyes to widen in excitement. 

  
  


“Oh, talking snow.” The man watched the snow swirl widely inside. 

  
  


“You are not of this world.” The globe stated.

  
  


“Takes, one to _snow_ one,” the man joked, frowning when Simeon doesn’t react. 

  
  


The man walked around the globe, oblivious to Simeon’s growing sense of panic and anger. 

  
  


“Multinucleate, crystalline organism with the ability to mimic or mirror what it finds.” The man occasionally whacked at the globe with his cane, each time the noise scraped at Simeon’s brain. “Looks like snow. Isn’t snow.” 

  
  


“You must leave here at once,” he demanded. 

  
  


“Shut up,” the man crowded into his personal space. “I’m not finished.” 

  
  


The man started walking around the globe again, “what are you?” He asked the globe, “a flock of space crystals?” 

  
  


Simeon had had enough, as the man was facing away from him, he went to ring the bell to summon someone to remove the man. 

  
  


“Those snowmen are mindless foot soldiers, you on the other hand, you’re the smart one, aren't you?” He whacked the globe a few more times, Simeon hoped the help would arrive quickly. 

  
  


“You arrive on this planet and generate a telepathic field to learn as much as you can.” The man raised the arm that doesn’t have the cane and points a glowing green light towards the door, “once you’ve learned enough, what do you do?” 

  
  


He turned to look back at Simeon, “you can’t conquer the world with snowmen, snowmen are fucking useless in July, you’ll have to be better than that, so you have to evolve.” 

  
  


“Sir!” The young man from earlier shouted, “the door appears to be stuck!” 

  
  


Simeon glared at the man, “what have you done? How have you locked the doors?” 

  
  


He hurried over to the doors and tried to open them, finding that they wouldn’t budge. 

  
  


“You need to be more... human,” he heard the man continue. 

  
  


“Kick the damn thing down!” He demanded, trying desperately to open the doors. 

  
  


“If you need an exact replica of a human in ice form, where do you get it?” The man wondered. 

  
  


“Get in here!” He hissed. 

  
  


“I’ll go search for the master key, sir!” 

  
  


He turned around at the sound of a file hitting the floor to see the man looking through his papers. He had never experienced such panic like this in his life and he was completely out of his depth with whoever this man was. 

  
  


“Aha!” The man slammed his cane down to point at an old newspaper clipping of the Latimer’s governess drowning. “Gotcha!” 

  
  


He had a wild look in his eye and Simeon felt completely exposed. 

  
  


The doors open and his security men barge in, “get him out of here!” 

  
  


He turned around to face the man, only to find him gone and the doors to the courtyard wide open. 

  
  


\-- 

  
  


“Now let’s see,” Mark walked around the concrete ledge of the pond, waving his sonic around, “body frozen in a pond.” 

  
  


He held the sonic up to see what it said, “the snow was given the chance to give a human body a full scan…” 

  
He spun around to see Tyler approaching, “what are you doing here?” 

  
  


“Sean wanted to know if you needed any help,” he shrugged. 

  
  


“Help with what?” 

  
  


“Your investigation.” 

  
  


“Who said I’m investigating anything? You think because I’m trespassing in the middle of the night that I’m investigating?” He squawked. 

  
  


Tyler looked at him like he grew two heads, “yes, what else does Sherlock Holmes do?” 

  
  


Mark turned to glare at him, “don’t be smart, Tyler. It doesn’t suit you. Have a goodnight.” 

  
  


“You too, Mr. Holmes,” he laughed. “We’re all stationed around the estate if Simeon does show up.”

  
  


“Fuck off,” was all he shouted at Tyler’s retreating shadow. 

  
  


He spun around at the sudden beam of light cast on him and was met with Ethan’s surprised face staring up at him from the second story. He gave Mark a tentative wave and Mark felt like a deer in the headlights. 

  
  


Mark hesitantly waved back, his heart's racing at being caught. 

  
  


Ethan pointed behind him, as if asking Mark to come inside. 

  
  


“Me?” He asked, pointing to his chest and then up at Ethan, ”inside?”

  
  


Ethan nodded his head and smiled at him. 

  
  


Mark panicked and spun around. _Just tell him that you were just leaving and can’t come in._ He spun back around and gave Ethan a thumbs up. He watched as Ethan beamed and ran away from the window. 

  
  


_Fuck_. 

  
  


Mark smacked his forehead with his hand, his top hat falling off. _Stupid._

  
  


\-- 

  
  


“Am I going to have the nightmare tonight?” Francesca asked, nervously playing with her quilt. 

  
  


“Of course not,” Ethan assured, sitting down at the end of her bed. “Someone is coming to help.” 

  
  


Both Francesca and Digby looked at him expectantly, “who?” 

  
  


“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Ethan dramatically boasted.

  
  


“Is this like one of your stories?” Digby asked, “the ones that are _definitely_ true?”

  
  


Ethan placed a hand to his chest and gasped in shock, “all of my stories are true!” 

  
  


“Like how you told us you were born behind Big Ben’s clock face?” 

  
  


“How else would I have such a good sense of time?” He quipped. 

  
  


“Or how you created fish?” 

  
  


“I don’t like swimming alone.” 

  
  


The children giggled, “tell us this story, Mr. Darling.” 

  
  


“There’s this man,” Ethan started, “Called the Doctor. He lives on a cloud, in the sky and his job is to keep all the children in the world from having bad dreams.” 

  
  


“But, why have I been having bad dreams?” Francesca asked. 

  
  


Ethan’s eyes flickered over the candle, the flame dancing around, despite there not being any wind. 

  
  


“He took a small vacation, like the one I did.” Ethan hears the floorboards in the hallway creaking, “but now he’s back and as a matter of fact, I think he’s right on time, aren’t you Doctor?”

  
  


The door creaked open and instead of it being Mark, Ethan was horrified to see a woman made out of ice. 

  
  


The three of them all scream in horror and Ethan quickly gets the children behind him, “Jesus Christ!” He shouted, looking around the room for a way out. 

  
  


“The children have been very naughty!” The ice woman hissed. 

  
  


“Into the playroom!” Ethan yelled, “hurry!” 

  
  


The three of them scramble into the attached playroom and Ethan quickly bolts the door shut. 

  
  


“Fran,” he said quickly, “imagine her melting!” 

  
  


“What?” Francesca squeaked, clearly confused. 

  
  


Ethan grabbed her shoulders, “in your mind, melt her!” 

  
  


“I-I can’t,” she stammered, her eyes wide with panic. 

  
  


“I’m getting impatient!” The ice woman cried, smashing at the door, breaking through. 

  
  


Ethan pushed the children behind him, and he doesn’t know what to do, other than try and protect them for as long as he can. 

  
  


“What about the Doctor!” Digby cried, his fingers holding Ethan’s arm in a vice grip. “You said he was coming!” 

  
  


“I don’t know!” Ethan screamed, backing them up against the wall as the woman got closer. 

  
  


“Doctor?” A familiar voice chimed. “Doctor who?” 

  
  


Ethan’s head whipped over to the puppet theatre to see one of the puppets holding the same object with the green light that Mark had. The puppet pointed the green light at the ice woman and Ethan hardly had the time to turn around to shield the children with his body before the woman exploded, ice shards hitting Ethan’s back and head. 

  
  


Mark’s gleeful face popped out from behind the puppet theatre and he chucked the puppet across the room, “made it just in time!” 

  
  


Ethan sagged in relief and hugged Francesca and Digby to his chest, “thank god, we’re all safe now.” 

  
  


He released the two of them and turned around to face Mark, who was kneeling on the carpet, pointing his green light at the melting ice shards. 

  
  


“Is that your magic wand?” He joked, watching as Mark methodically tossed it up and caught it. 

  
  


“Sonic screwdriver, actually,” Mark boasted as he put it into his coat pocket, “comes with a defroster.” 

  
  


“Will she ever come back?” Francesca asked, peeking out from behind Ethan. 

  
  


“I don’t think so,” Mark muttered, standing back up, “she’s currently absorbing into your carpet.” 

  
  


Mark gave him a cocky grin, “you’re welcome by the way.” 

  
  


“Thank you so much, I knew you would come.” Ethan pulled Mark in for a hug, ignoring the way the man went stock still and instead focusing on the heat he was radiating and the familiar scent of his musk. 

  
  


“No, you didn’t,” Mark said when he let him go, “this isn't the thing I do anymore.” 

  
  


Ethan ignored the pang in his chest and instead focused on the way he could see his breath, “it’s getting cooler.” 

  
  


He looked over at the windows to see a thick layer of frost, “Mark why is it getting colder.” 

  
  


The sounds of cracking ice caused the four of them to glance over to the carpet, where the ice woman was starting to reform. 

  
  


“What’s happening?” Francesca demanded, grabbing Ethan’s hand, “is she going to punish me?” 

  
  


Mark stepped in front of them and waved his sonic screwdriver in their direction. “Of course, she’s learned not to melt.” 

  
  


In a fluid motion he reached down and slung Digby over his shoulder and grabbed Francesca’s free hand, “she’s gonna to eat you. _Run!”_

  
  


The four of them thundered down the hallway and down the staircase, right into Captain Latimer. 

  
  


“Children, what is the - _who are you?”_ He demanded when he caught sight of Mark, “get your hands off my son!” 

  
  


“Captain! Please come quickly!” Mary’s shout echoed through the hallway, she barreled over to the staircase, her eyes wide with terror, “Captain, there’s - there’s _snowmen_ outside!” 

  
  


“Looks like you could use some help!” Sean’s voice added to the chaos as he and Evelien burst through the front door, Tyler following behind. 

  
  


“What the devil is happening!” Captain Latimer shouted, sounding hysterical. 

  
  


_I’m going to need to find another position after this_. Ethan morbidly thought. _If I survive._

  
  


“Sean!” Mark set Digby down and weaved his way towards the man, the two of them heading toward the front windows, “what’s going on?” 

  
  


“The snow is highly localized, and in some cases, not natural.” Sean wiped at the condensation on the windowpane, watching as it quickly reappeared. 

  
  


“The snow’s coming from some machine at the gates,” Evelien explained. 

  
  


“Can someone, _please tell me what in God's name is going on?”_

  
  


“Your former governess has been turned into an ice demon and she’s come to kill us all.” Mark leaned against the banister, “anything else you would like to know?” 

  
  


“The children need to be punished!” 

  
  


“And there’s our special guest!” Mark barked, grabbing a small, glowing ball from Evelien. 

  
  


“This should hold her for a little while,” Mark chucked the ball towards the ice woman and it exploded into a glowing red barrier, keeping her from going any further. 

  
  


“Tyler, find me a secure location!” 

  
  


“We should use the study; it has one window and only one entrance.” 

  
  


“Perfect, everyone, get into the study!” Mark commanded, “Sean, stay with me.” 

  
  


Ethan herded Francesca and Digby into the study and poked his head out to hear the muffled conversation Mark and Sean were having. 

  
  


“- not engaging, I’m under attack!” Mark snarked, his sonic screwdriver whirring loudly. 

  
  


“Fuck off, you missed this,” Sean said glancing over Mark’s shoulder as the ice woman bashed at the barrier. 

  
  


“Mark stayed silent for a second before Ethan heard a muffled, “shut up.” 

  
  


Ethan quickly moved away from the doorframe and Mark and Sean came charging in, Mark’s eyes ablaze. “Tyler, how much time have we got?” 

  
  


Tyler glanced over his shoulder from his position in the window, “I don’t think they’re going to. They made no attempt to hide their arrival. It looks like they’re in a defensive formation.” 

  
  


“So, there’s clearly something here that they want,” Sean implied, leaning against a bookshelf. 

  
  


“The ice woman?” Ethan inquired, looking back at Mark for confirmation. 

  
  


Mark snapped his fingers, “exactly.” 

  
  


“Why do they want her so badly?” 

  
  


“Because,” Mark started, staring out at the army of snowmen, “she’s a perfect duplicate of a human being in ice form. She’s the ultimate combination of snow and humanity.”

  
  


Mark started to pace the room, clearly getting deeper in thought, “in order for the snow to live, it needs to evolve.” He pointed towards the staircase, “she is the perfect evolution of what the rest of them need to become.” 

  
  


Mark stopped in front of Ethan, “when the snow melted, did the pond?” 

  
  


“No,” Ethan shook his head. 

  
  


“Living ice,” Mark muttered as he started pacing again, “it will never melt, if the snow gets a hold of that thing on the stairs, it will make more of them. Creating an army of ice, ending humanity as we know it.”

  
  


Mark leaned against Captain Latimer’s desk, bowing his head for a second before cracking his neck loudly, “stay here.” 

  
  


With a flourish, Mark was storming out of the study and Ethan was quick to follow. 

  
  


“What are you doing?” Mark demanded, “stay in there where it’s safe.” 

  
  


Ethan felt his heart pumping in his chest from more than just fear, “I didn’t listen.”

  
  


Mark’s face scrunched up, “you do that a lot.” 

  
  


Ethan’s hands shook, “that’s why you like me.” 

  
  


“Who said I like you?”

  
  


Ethan reached out and grabbed Mark by the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss. When their lips met, Ethan’s whole body felt like it was on fire, despite the bitter cold in the house. He had never kissed another man before. The scratching of Mark’s beard against his face was a new sensation that made him lightheaded, but there was something about Mark that pulled him in and wouldn’t let go.

  
  


When Ethan pulled back to breath, Mark was staring at him with a gobsmacked expression on his face. _“You kissed me!”_

  
  


“You're blushing,” Ethan giggled. 

  
  


Mark opened his mouth for a retort before abruptly telling him to shut up and turned around to nearly sprint down the hall. Ethan hurried after him, feeling like he was floating. 

  
  


Mark opened the front door to reveal an angry looking man. The look of anger and disgust on Mark’s face was enough to tell Ethan all he needed to know about him. 

  
  


“Release her to us,” he commanded, the snowman creeping towards them, “I give you five minutes.” 

  
  


Mark slammed the door in his face, “we need to get that thing out of here, but without letting them get a hold of it.” 

  
  


“How?” Ethan asked, watching as Mark grabbed an umbrella. He stopped abruptly as Captain Latimer emerged from his study. 

  
  


“What are those creatures?” 

  
  


“They aren’t a danger to your family as long as we get that thing out of here,” Mark assured him, pointing over his shoulder to the ice woman, still trapped on the stairs. “Go back in the study where it’s safe.” 

  
  


He pointed his sonic screwdriver at the woman and Ethan watched as the barrier disappeared, _“Mark, what are you doing?”_

  
  


“We’re gonna find out,” Mark said quickly as he ascended the stairs, towards the ice woman. 

  
  


Ethan was hot on his heels and barely managed to sneak by as the barrier reappeared at the bottom of the staircase. 

  
  


_“Ethan!”_ Mark hissed, quickly grabbing Ethan’s wrist and pulling him past the ice woman and up the stairs. “That was fucking stupid!” 

  
  


Mark skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase and Ethan was quick to tug him along to keep him going. “So is this! Keep moving!” 

  
  


Ethan led them to the end of the hallway and unlocked the window, pushing it open. “Onto the roof!” 

  
  


Mark jumped through first and held his hand out to help him when something ice cold grabbed him by the ankle. 

  
  


“Mark!” He screamed, desperately trying to kick the ice woman away. He frantically grabbed at Mark’s hand and Mark reached back through the window to pull him outside by his shoulders. 

  
  


He managed to kick the ice woman’s hands away and the force Mark was putting into trying to pull him through the window caused him to fall backwards, pulling Ethan with him. 

  
  


He landed on Mark’s chest with a thud, Mark’s hands automatically going to his hips. Ethan was breathless as he stared into Mark’s eyes, his entire body running on pure adrenaline. 

  
  


“We need a plan,” Mark said, his eyes glancing down to Ethan’s mouth. 

  
  


“I’m sure we can think of something,” he mumbled back, leaning in. 

  
  


The sound of glass smashing caused the two of them to roll off one another and look towards the window where the ice woman was trying to get through. 

  
  


They quickly got onto their feet and Mark grabbed Ethan’s hand. 

  
  


“I’m such an idiot!” He shouted, scanning the rooftop, “I don’t have a plan.” 

  
  


“That’s not true, “Ethan squeezed his hand, “I’ve just met you and you’re one of the cleverest men I know.”

  
  


“So then, what’s my plan, Ethan?” Mark questioned, with a grin on his face. 

  
  


“Is this a test?” Ethan panicked, “right here? Right now?” 

  
  


“Yes, it’s a test, come on, what’s my plan.” 

  
  


The ice woman had given up on trying to fit through the window and Ethan watched as she turned into snow, catching into the wind. 

  
  


_Of course._

  
  


“Of course, I know your plan!” He declared, barging up to Mark, so they were chest to chest. 

  
  


“Then what is it?” He challenged.

  
  


“Why should I tell you? It’s your plan?” 

  
  


Mark grinned at him, “because we’ll be dead in less than a minute.” Their noses brushed.

  
  


“So, tell me Ethan,” Mark glanced at the swirling snow of the ice woman, “do I have a plan?” 

  
  


Ethan stepped away from Mark, “if we were going to escape, we would have climbed down. If we were going to attack, we would be on the other side of the roof. But -” Ethan grabbed the umbrella from Mark, “we’re standing right here for a reason.” 

  
  


_God let me be right._

  
  


Ethan held the handle end of the umbrella into the air, satisfaction and pride filling his chest when he felt it clang against something metal. 

  
  


He quickly pulled down the ladder and lavished in the look of admiration Mark gave him. “After you.” 

  
  


Mark quickly started up the ladder and Ethan glanced back to where the ice woman had almost fully reformed. He grabbed onto the ladder and laughed, “I understand that you’re the previous governess? I regret to tell you that the position is already taken.” He stepped up onto the ladder as it started to ascend and met Mark at the base of the spiral staircase. 

  
  


“How do you move your cloud?” He asked, breathless, “can you control it?” 

  
  


Mark turned around and licked his bottom lip before crowding himself into Ethan’s space. 

  
  


“You think I can control the clouds? That would be ridiculous.” 

  
  


Ethan can’t stand the smug look on Mark’s face and they both leaned in at the same time, this time, the kiss has more desperation in it as Mark’s hands grip onto his sides like a vice. 

  
  


They’re thrown off balance and Ethan looked down to see the ice woman trying to climb after them, “Mark she’s still coming after us.” 

  
  


“That’s the plan, to keep her away from the snow,” Mark grabbed his hand and tugged him up the stairs, “so, barman or governor? Which is it?” 

  
  


Ethan laughed, dumbfounded that Mark was asking such a question, “we’re being chased by an evil ice woman and you want to have small talk?” 

  
  


“You’re the one that wanted to continue our conversation from earlier.” 

  
  


Ethan’s lungs are on fire from trying to keep up with Mark, but they’re soon at the top of the staircase and Mark points his sonic screwdriver at it. 

  
  


“What are we standing on?” He asked.

  
  


Mark doesn’t take his eyes off the staircase, “super-dense water vapour. It should keep her away for a little while.” 

  
  


Mark leads him towards the box and Ethan finally has a chance to catch his breath. “So, you really live in a box on a cloud?” 

  
  


“It’s as much a box as you are a governor!” 

  
  


Mark snapped his fingers and the doors to the box opened, Ethan gasping at how big it was on the inside. He had never seen anything like it. Light traveled around the box in a way Ethan didn’t think was possible. He gripped the railing as he tried to process what he was seeing. Mark was looking at him with a cocky expression as he leaned against the structure in the centre, full of switches and buttons that Ethan desperately wanted to know what function they performed. 

  
  


“It’s called the TARDIS,” Mark explained, “it can travel anywhere in time and space. And it’s mine.” 

  
  


“But,” Ethan’s brain couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing, “its - look at it -” 

  
  


“Say it,” Mark encouraged, “most people do.” 

  
  


Ethan ran back outside to the sound of Mark’s laughter as he ran his hand around the entire circumference of the box. It was still the same size it had been when Ethan was up here the first time. _I don’t understand,_

  
  


He ran back inside to Mark’s expectant face, “it’s smaller on the outside.” 

  
  


Mark’s eyebrows raised and he cocked his head to the side, “ok, never heard that before.” 

  
  


“Is it magic? Or some kind of machine?” Ethan wondered aloud, taking the time to examine everything from the top to the bottom. 

  
  


“It’s a ship,” Mark corrected, pressing buttons, “the best in the universe.” 

  
  


Ethan came up behind Mark and delicately placed his hands on the metal, “does it have a kitchen?” 

  
  


Mark reeled his head back, “that’s another first.” 

  
  


Ethan shrugged, “I just like making souffles.” 

  
  


Ethan missed the way that Mark’s hands froze and started to shake.

  
  


“S-souffles?” He questioned with wide eyes. 

  
  


“We’re nearly the same height,” he said abruptly. 

  
  


“What about it?” Mark questioned.

  
  


“You could’ve been the one to pull the ladder down, but you let me do it instead, _why?”_ Ethan’s heart was jackrabbiting in his chest. 

  
  


Mark slowly approached him, “I never know _why_ ,” he rested his forehead against Ethan’s, “I only know _who.”_

  
  


Ethan feels something cold in his palm and looks down to see Mark’s pressing a key into his hand. 

  
  


“What’s this?” He stuttered. 

  
  


“It’s me.” Mark said simply. 

  
  


Ethan’s eyes filled with tears as he was overwhelmed with emotion, his lip trembled, “I don’t know why I’m crying.” 

  
  


“I do,” Mark said, softly, his hands resting on Ethan’s hips, “remember this. Remember this exact moment. Don’t forget a second of it. Because this is the day that _everything begins!”_

  
  


Ethan’s joy is short-lived, he’s pulled out of Mark’s grasp and dragged backwards, the key Mark gave him flying out of his hand. 

  
  


“Mark! Mark!” He screamed, desperately trying to free himself. 

  
  


“Let him go!” Mark demanded, his sonic screwdriver whirring loudly, “ _Let him go!”_

  
  


Ethan’s suddenly freefalling. A scream is sucked out of his lungs and his life flashed before his eyes as Mark’s screaming face gets impossibly farther away. 

  
  


\-- 

  
  


The sound of a loud thud had Sean quickly looking toward the window. A gasp escaping as he sees Ethan’s lifeless body in the snow, surrounded by snowmen. 

  
  


“Oh my god!” Captain Latimer croaked in horror, looking into the sky, “where did he fall from?” 

  
  


He quickly grabbed his coat, “we need to get him inside, he’s badly hurt!” 

  
  


“Those things will kill you,” Sean told him, knowing that Ethan couldn’t have survived the fall, “he’s already dead.” 

  
  


Sean heard the familiar wheezing and didn’t need to look out the window to know that Mark had brought Ethan into the TARDIS to try and save him. The next thing he knew, the TARDIS was materializing into the office and Mark was carrying Ethan’s limp body out, his face red and puffy with tears. 

  
  


“Save him!” He screamed, “please save him!” 

  
  


Sean helped him lay Ethan out on Latimer’s desk and Tyler quickly went to work with whatever technology he had to keep bring Ethan back. 

  
  


“The Mick said he was dead!” Latimer cursed, Sean growling at the slur. “How can he be alive now?” 

  
  


Tyler glared at the man, “this technology is far beyond what you’re even capable of understanding. Relax.” 

  
  


Sean abruptly left the room and entered the TARDIS, where Mark was scanning chunks of ice with his sonic. The stony expression on his face telling Sean all he needed to know. 

  
  


“Is she still a threat?” He asked, leaning against the console. 

  
  


“Not in here,” Mark muttered, not looking away from the ice chunks. 

  
  


“Mark,” he sighed, “you should be with Ethan.”

  
  


“Why? Mark said, slightly hysterical, “he’s going to be fine. He has to be.” 

  
  


“Mark, his injuries are life-threatening. Sure, he can be brought back for a short time. But long term?” 

  
  


Mark slammed his hands down on the console, “it was my fault. I’m responsible for this. He was in my care.” 

  
  


“Why are you blaming yourself?” Sean could tell there was something that Mark wasn’t telling him. 

  
  


“He’s going to live,” Mark insisted. 

  
  


Sean watched as Mark placed all the ice chunks in a box and pushed past him. 

  
  


Sean sighed and followed after him, a pit in his stomach as he watched Mark’s hands hover over Ethan’s body as he took in slow, uneven breaths. 

  
  


“They all think I’m going to die, don’t they?” He heard Ethan ask. 

  
  


“No,” Mark grabbed his hand, “you’re going to live.” 

  
  


“How?” Sean could hear the way Ethan was struggling to breathe, and he couldn’t imagine the pain that his friend was in. 

  
  


“I just know,” Mark mumbled, tears in his voice. 

  
  


“Sean told me that you were the saviour of worlds, are you going to save this one?” Ethan asked weakly. 

  
  


“Only if you run away with me,” Mark whispered. 

  
  


“Yes.” Ethan’s eyes fluttered closed and Sean could see the rage that was building inside Mark. The bitter hatred and fury that was about to be unleashed on Walter Simeon. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Mark snatched the box of ice chunks from Evelien and stormed outside, barely able to contain his anger. He came face to face with Walter Simeon and his army of snowmen. 

  
  


“Here is your ice lady,” he seethed, holding up the box for them to see, “everything you need to know how to make ice people, is right here. Is this what you want?” 

  
  


Simeon stepped forward with his hand out expectantly.

  
  


“Meet you at the office!” He barked before slamming the door. He marched into the TARDIS, pointedly not looking at Ethan. He didn’t need to wait for Sean because he was already inside waiting. 

  
  


“So, tell me _Doctor_ , why are you saving the world? Have you made a deal with the universe? To save Ethan’s life?” 

  
  


“Yes!” He said adamantly, flipping switches and buttons, “but I don’t need to tell you that this could all be for nothing. The universe does not own me a single thing.” 

  
  


“The universe doesn’t make bargains.” 

  
  


_“It was my fault!”_

  
  


“Then let’s not let Ethan’s sacrifice go in vain.” 

  
  


Mark pulled down the lever and the TARDIS kicked into life, taking them right to Simeon’s office. 

  
  


He made himself comfortable at Simeon’s desk while he waited for his arrival. He looked at all the important documents that covered the surface and kicked his slush and dirt covered boots all over them. Sean snorted out a laugh as he sat on the edge of the desk. 

  
  


When Simeon barged into the office, Mark was ready for him. 

  
  


“You owe me something!” He demanded, “where is it?” 

  
  


“The big guy has been quiet while you were gone,” he said instead, nodding his head in the direction of the globe. “But that’s not surprising given who he really is.”

  
  


Mark stood up and grabbed the box, holding it up to the globe. 

  
  


“I am unfamiliar with these markings,” the globe confessed. 

  
  


“It’s the London Underground circa 1966,” Mark declared. 

  
  


“Enough foolery,” said the globe, “we are powerful, but on this planet, we are limited.” 

  
  


Mark pulled out his sonic and twisted it around in his hand to change the frequency. 

  
  


The pitch of the globe’s voice suddenly changed to a child’s 

  
  


“Stop that!” It squeaked, “I command you to stop that!” 

  
  


Mark watched with satisfaction as Simeon fell to his knees. 

  
  


“Mark why does it sound like a child?” Sean asked. 

  
  


“Because it is, it’s this asshole as a kid.” 

  
  


“Don’t listen to him, he’s ruining everything!” 

  
  


Mark approached Simeon, “how long has the Intelligence been talking to you?” 

  
  


“I was a boy,” Simeon said, gaze fixed on the globe, “he was my snowman. He spoke to me.” 

  
  


“Snow can’t talk,” Mark pressed, “it was mirroring. It was mirroring your fears and thoughts. You poured your darkest fears into a snowman and look at what it created.” 

  
  


Sean looked confused, “Mark I don’t understand.” 

  
  


He glared at the globe, “It’s a parasite, feeding off the loneliness of a child and the sickness of an old man. Carnivorous man meets Victorian values. It created a plague.” 

  
  


“We can still do what we planned!” The globe pleaded. 

  
  


“Yes, and what a plan it was!” Mark laughed, a bitter taste in his mouth, “a living planet of ice people. What a fucking idiot.” 

  
  


“What’s wrong with Victorian values?” Simeon seethed as he snatched the box out of Mark’s hands.

  
  


“Are you sure about that?” Mark questioned, holding a hand up to stop Sean from taking it back. 

  
  


“I’ve always been sure.” 

  
  


Mark watched intently as Simeon reached into the box and froze, pulling the memory worm that was latched into the flesh of his hand out. 

  
  


“Your entire adult life is about to be erased,” Mark said, emotionless. He felt nothing but negative thoughts for the monster in front of him. “You can’t have a parasite without a host. If I take you out of the equation, it has no voice, no form.” 

  
  


Sparks shot out of the globe, “what’s happening? What did you do?” 

  
  


“You have nothing to mirror anymore,” Mark told it, as Simeon breathed his last breath. 

  
  


Mark watched with a satisfied smirk as the swirling snow slowly stopped, only to quickly swirl up again with a laugh. The child’s voice was replaced by the original. 

  
  


“Did you really think it would be so easy?” 

  
  


Mark was taken aback, “but that’s not possible.” He ran over to the window and watched as thick snowflakes fell unrelentlessly over London. 

  
  


“But you aren’t real, you were just Simeon!” He insisted, raking his hands through his hair in confusion, “how are you still alive?” 

  
  


“The dream outlives the dreamer,” it said, cryptically.

  
  


With a flash of electricity, Simeon’s body sprung to life, covered in frost. “I tried for so long to take on human form. By ridding the world of Walter SImeon, you have made room for the Great Intelligence!” 

  
  


The ice zombie moved with surprising speed and knocked Sean out of the way, his cold hands closing around Mark’s throat with surprising strength. “I am more than ice; I am more than Simeon!” 

  
  


Burning cold flared up Mark’s throat, his breath visible as he could feel the frost eating at his skin. 

  
  


“Do you feel it? Winter is coming!” 

  
  


Mark was being frozen alive, and he was paralyzed to stop it. 

  
  


\-- 

  
  


Ethan groaned as Tyler scanned him again with another form of technology. The pain he felt nothing but a dull sensation as Tyler had given him some form of opioid. 

  
  


“Captain Latimer,” he mumbled, “your children are afraid. Comfort them.” 

  
  


The man looked visibly uncomfortable, ‘it’s not really my area -” 

  
  


“After all that has happened tonight, you are still unable to show your children any kindness?” Ethan managed to seethe, “look at how terrified they are!” 

  
  


The mad has the decency to look embarrassed as he looks at his children, desperately clutching onto Mary. “I - you’re right.” 

  
  


He awkwardly holds his arms out and Ethan thinks he sees Francesca and Digby run into his arms. The sound of pouring rain pulling him unconscious

  
  


\-- 

  
  


Mark gasped as Simeon crumpled into a heap on the floor, heat rushing into his lungs and limbs as he coughed, desperately trying to get enough air in his lungs. He frantically looked out the window at the sounds of thunder and pouring rain. 

  
  


“Mark!” Sean gasped, trying to pull himself up, “the globe’s full of water!” The snow’s melted!” 

  
  


Once the black spots stop dancing in Mark’s vision, he’s able to see that somehow, it’s raining inside the globe and Simeon’s body is thrashing and gurgling as if it's drowning. 

  
  


“What happened?” 

  
  


“The dream outlives the dreamer,” Mark muttered, recalling what the globe had said, his mind moving a mile a minute. “The snow mirrors, and it’s mirroring something so strong that it’s drowning in it.” 

  
  


Mark scrambled to his feet and kicked the door to the courtyard open and stuck his hand into the rain, “there was such a large amount of snow at the estate, it something happened there -” 

  
  


Sean stuck his hand out too and licked at the rain, “it’s salty…” 

  
  


“It’s not rain,” Mark gasped, running back to the TARDIS, “it’s tears. We have to get to Ethan!” 

  
  


Mark willed the TARDIS to bring him to Ethan faster, he threw the doors to the TARDIS open and stormed into the room, the atmosphere in the room telling him all he needed to know. 

  
  


He felt numb as he walked over to Ethan, his face pale and his chest barely fluttering. The Latimer children sobbing in their Father’s arms. 

  
  


“I’m sorry, Mark.” Tyler muttered, rubbing his eye, “I did all I could.” 

  
  


Mark waved him off, he couldn’t feel anything and all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. He loomed over Ethan before he fell to his knees. 

  
  


“We saved the world Ethan,” he whispered, his throat constricting, “you and me, we did it together.” 

  
  


Ethan gave him a weak smile, “are you going to go back up to your cloud now?” 

  
  


Mark shook his head and delicately held Ethan’s hand in his own, “no, not now.” 

  
  


Ethan coughed, spitting out a little bit of blood. “Why not?” 

  
  


Mark shrugged his shoulders and brushed Ethan’s hair off his forehead. 

  
  


“Remember me, as I go gentle into this good night,” Ethan breathed, his eyes fluttering, “please remember me.” 

  
  


Mark choked back a sob as Ethan’s eyes closed, he pressed a kiss to the top of Ethan’s hand and set it down. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Mark clutched a bouquet of lilies in his fist, the stiff collar of his shirt making it hard to breath. Sean and Evelien flank his side as they watch as the Latimer family pay their respects at Ethan’s grave. The children each place a single flower on the fresh pile of dirt and Mark has to quickly wipe at his burning eyes.

  
  


“So, what are we gonna do about the Great Intelligence?” Sean muttered. 

  
  


Evelien scoffed, “we can’t be in much danger from a disembodied intelligence that thinks snowmen are the best choice for a world invasion.” 

  
  


Mark’s lost in his thoughts as he approached Ethan’s grave, the Latimer family talking with the priest a short while away. He dropped the bouquet with a gasp as he read the engraving on Ethan’s grave. 

  
  


“I - I never knew his full name.” Mark fell to his knees, frantically looking back at Sean and Evelien. 

  
  


_Remember me. I am crewmate, E. Nestor Darling of the S.S. Maine. I fought for my life against the Dalek’s,_ _I did not go gentle into that good night, and_ _I am human!”_

  
  


Darling’s voice echoed in Mark’s brain. “Souffle Boy! Darling! Ethan was him! _He was Ethan_!” 

  
  


Mark raised a shaky hand and traced the lettering. 

  
  


Ethan Nestor Darling. 

  
  


“It was him _again._ I - I never saw his face when he was a Dalek, but they had the same voice _._

  
  


“Doctor? What are you talking about?” Evelien looked between him and Sean. 

  
  


“The same guy, I’ve met him twice and he’s died both times now.” 

  
  


“Mark, what’s going on?” 

  
  


“Something impossible is happening,” Mark stumbled to his feet, “you two stay here, don’t fucking leave. I have something to do?” 

  
  


“Are you coming back?” Sean shouted after him as he sprinted to the TARDIS.

  
  


“I don’t fucking think so!” He shouted back, throwing his top hat into the bushes as he started to rip at his tie. 

“Where are you going?” 

  
  


“To find him, to find Ethan!” 

  
  


Mark snapped his fingers and the TARDIS doors open. He skids around the console, it’s wheezing in excitement, like it knows what Mark is thinking. 

  
  


“Ethan!” He shouted, pulling madly at levers. 

  
  


“Nestor!” The lights in the TARDIS are flashing brightly. 

  
  


“Darling!” The TARDIS takes off and Mark’s never been happier as he plots his course across the universe to find this man. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains: 
> 
> A child getting hit 
> 
> Anti Irish / Catholic language and a 19th century slur for them 
> 
> There are some instances of violence 
> 
> Ethan also dies in this chapter
> 
> If I've missed anything please let me know.


	5. The TARDIS Knows Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little shorter, believe it or not, school's the priority right now. But I'll try and get out a much longer chapter soon.

**Cape Elizabeth, Maine, 2002.**

Mark has learned throughout his life of traveling the universe not to underestimate the sheer size of it. Trying to find a single person in all of time and space is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Ethan could be literally anywhere in the universe and Mark had no clue where to find him. Or if he was even still out there. 

He lets the TARDIS lead the way, it knows him better than anyone else in the universe and always takes him wherever he’s needed most. It takes him across different galaxies and timelines. Everywhere Mark goes, he makes sure to look for Ethan, hoping that each time the TARDIS takes him to where he wanted to be the most. 

Through his travels, Mark relearned how to be the Doctor again. He had been so bitter after Bob and Wade’s death that he had lost sight of himself. Accepting their deaths had been the hardest thing Mark had done in centuries. But it was an important first step to getting back on track. It took him a long time, but eventually the TARDIS brought him to the cemetery in Cincinnati that they were buried in. Their gravesites were only a few headstones apart from one another. 

Mark brings flowers and picks away the weeds from the weather-aged stones and finally lets himself grieve properly. Not holed up in the TARDIS, but properly accepting what had happened to his best friends. He apologizes to them both, for how he had been acting, knowing that they wouldn’t want that from him. 

It isn’t until thunder booms over his head that Mark tells them he’ll start visiting more often and heads back into the TARDIS, the heavy weight in his heart finally gone. 

It reinvigorates his search for Ethan. He ends up in fights and saves a few more worlds along the way, it reminds him of why he escaped Gallifrey in the first place. The thrill that he got from it all. It makes Mark ok with not finding Ethan immediately. He knows he’ll find him when the time is right. 

But eventually, Mark does start to get impatient. He starts to question whether he was imaging the whole thing. There was no way that he could keep running into the same person over and over again, in different places and times. Mark tries to rationalize it in his brain, telling himself that E. Nestor Darling must have just been a descendant of Ethan. Or just a happy coincidence. But a quick search informs him that Ethan was the last member of his family, dying out when he did. Even if the two had been relatives, the one thing that Mark cannot rationalize is how Ethan was on Gallifrey. He’s sure of it now, it’s a little fuzzy around the edges, but Mark knows that the man that he met on that fateful day was Ethan. And humans don’t just show up on Gallifrey. 

It’s something that he can’t explain, and it drives Mark crazy, because he knows everything. Yet, he can’t figure out the enigma that is Ethan. 

He tells himself that Ethan has to be out there, waiting for their paths to cross again. Mark already knows that he’ll spend however long it takes, searching for Ethan.

For his Impossible Boy. 

Mark stumbles a bit as the TARDIS suddenly lands, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glances up at the TARDIS to see the lights flashing excitedly, the doors opening behind him. 

He’s been traveling with it so long that it can read him like a book. “Trying to get rid of me, are you?” 

The TARDIS groaned back at him, which Mark knew meant it was time for him to take a break and to head outside into the real world. 

The cold air blowing in from outside caused Mark to grab his hoodie on the way out the doors, the sounds of waves crashing against rocks becoming more prominent as he pulled his hoodie over his head. 

The TARDIS brought him to the East Coast of the United States. The American flags on every house and cottage he can see a dead giveaway. In the distance, past the beach occupied by a few people, Mark sees a lighthouse. 

He breathes in the salty air and wanders towards the edge of a cliff, his hands buried in his pockets to protect them from the cold. He stares out at the Atlantic Ocean for a while, enjoying the sounds of the waves crashing into the rocks below him. There’s a storm brewing on the horizon and he glances down to the people on the beach, not a care in the world at what’s coming for them. 

_They’re probably used to it_ , Mark thought as he headed towards the beach, wanting to be near other people. 

He settled himself on a bench near a playground, not too far away from the sand. He can see a man playing fetch with his dog. A few women walking near the water. And a father teaching his two sons how to cast a fishing rod. 

Based on the acid wash jeans and brightly patterned windbreakers, Mark places himself somewhere in the late 90s or the early 00s, making him stand out like a sore thumb. His joggers, laceless shoes and comparatively snug hoodie won’t be in style for more than a decade, but people seem to pay him no mind. 

Earth always makes him feel so small. Humans make him feel small. Despite being able to masquerade as one for centuries, the only place that he feels comfortable enough to maybe call home, still feels foriegn.

Mark doesn’t know how long he sits on the bench for. He watches people as they pass by, the kids playing on the playground and can’t help but feel the familiar pang of loneliness in his chest. 

His mind starts to tell him that looking for Ethan is a fool’s errand, it’s not the first time it’s happened, but each time is like a punch to the face. Ethan could be right under his nose and Mark missed him. 

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice when a young boy with a chunky bowl cut sits on the bench next to him. The sudden presence caused him to jump and shift away instinctively to give the kid more space. 

A quick glance around tells him that it’s one of the boys from earlier, who was fishing with his brother and father. 

“Hi,” the kid waved at him, a curious look on his face, “why are you sitting here all alone?” 

Mark laughed to himself at the kid’s curiosity, he was like that once. 

“Just enjoying the scenery,” he told the kid, knowing that he was too young to understand the storm in Mark’s brain. 

“My Dad said I shouldn’t talk to strangers, but you looked like you needed a friend.” 

Mark can see the way the boy’s father keeps glancing back at him to make sure his son is safe and a smile creeps onto his face at the kindness this kid is showing a complete stranger. 

“Well your Dad is right,” he said, glancing back out to the ocean, the rough waves signifying the impending arrival of the storm. 

The boy cocked his head to the side, “are you strange?” 

Mark can’t hold back the laugh he lets out, “you don’t know the half of it. I think I’m way past strange.” 

The boy looks at him curiously, “but strange isn’t always bad.”

“No you’re right,” Mark pushed his hair out of his face, “strange can be good.” 

“Are you lonely?” The boy asked, abruptly, “have you lost something?” 

Mark’s taken aback by the question and genuinely lets himself think before he settles on an answer, “yeah I have.”

“When I lose something, like my balance, I get back up and try again.” 

Mark raised his eyebrow and glanced over at the boy, “your balance? Like when you’re riding your bike?” 

The boy shook his head and scooted off the bench, “no, I do gymnastics and when we fall or lose our balance, we get back up and try again.” To show his point, Mark watched as the kid hurried over a large planter nearby and stepped up onto the raised wooden frame around it. He held out his arms and carefully placed one foot in front of the other before running back over to Mark. 

“See!” He exclaimed, breathless from running there and back, “I used to lose my balance all the time, but I got back up and now I don’t fall!” 

Mark clapped, “wow, that was impressive. I bet you only fell down once before you nailed it the next time.”

The kid beamed at him with pride, "I only fell down twice, coach was really proud of me!"

"Well I would be too." 

“So what did you lose?” The kid asked as he sat back down.

“I lost a friend,” Mark tells him, enjoying the easy conversation between the two of them. “I’ve met him a few times now and I keep losing him. Now I don’t know if I’ll ever find him again.” 

“Have you looked for him? Have you tried calling his mom?” 

Mark huffed out a laugh, “yeah I’ve been looking everywhere for him. I don’t think calling his mom’s gonna help.” 

The boy fiddles with the zipper of his fleece jacket, “that’s sad.” 

“Yeah,” Mark sighed, “is it.” 

Mark feels something wet hit his forehead and looks up to see the storm clouds have arrived, “you should get back to your dad.” He tells the kid, looking out to the shoreline to see the boy's father has started to pack up the fishing tackle. 

The boy slides off the bench, “how are you gonna find your friend?” 

“Well,” Mark starts, “we kinda keep bumping into each other. So I thought if I just wandered around, maybe I would bump into him again… Maybe fate will bring us together.” 

The boy looked deep in thought before he looked at Mark, “I hope you find your friend, but I have to go, we're going to my Grandparents for supper!" 

Mark gives him a sad smile as he started to leave, "goodbye!" 

“I hope I find him too,” he said to himself, sadness filling his chest, “I really hope I do.” 

The boy ran to meet his father and brother. Mark smiled as the boy tried to grab onto the fishing poles, eager to help out. 

\--

“Who was that?” Dad asked, finally letting him carry his fishing pole. 

“A friend,” he said, a skip in his step, “he was sad because he’s lost a friend and can’t find him, I just wanted to cheer him up a little.” 

“Well that was nice of you, but you need to be careful around strangers, ok?” 

He rolled his eyes, “yes, Dad I know.” 

The rain picked up and he could see Dad’s truck just up ahead. 

“Last one there is a rotten egg!” He dropped his fishing pole and sprinted towards the truck. 

“Ethan!” He heard his Dad shout, “get back here!” 

  
  



	6. The Bells of Saint John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the word doc for this fic is over 200 pages and I still have a lot more to write. pray for google doc lmao

**Cumbria, 1207.**

Brother Paul bashed his fist against the door of the barracks, “Wake the Father! The Bells of Saint John are ringing!” 

The small latch on the door opened up and a pair of beady eyes stared back at him, “the Bells of Saint John?” 

He eagerly nodded his head, “yes we must tell the Father, it is the Bells of Saint John!” 

The metal door slammed shut and Brother Paul gasped as the doors started to slowly creak open. From inside, he could hear other Brother’s shouting about the Bells. 

“Right this way, Brother, come with me at once!” The Father grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards a set of metal doors that lead underground, “we must go to Him.” 

The Father led him down a dark and winding set of stairs, the flicker of occasional torches casting menacing shadows. Roots poking through the foundation of the wall snagged on his tunic. The Father paid them no mind, despite how high quality his own robes were. 

“Is He the man the people call the Mad Monk, Father?” He asked, startled by the way his voice echoed around him. “It is true that he’s actually mad?” 

The old man laughed, “they certainly shouldn’t, he is definitely not a monk.” 

Brother Paul didn’t like the way the Father ignored the man’s madness, “I’ve heard rumours from the other Brother’s that he is searching for a man that has died twice, how is that possible, Father?” 

“Gossiping is a sin, Brother Paul,” the Father reminded him. 

“Forgive me, Father and forgive me, Lord,” he said, sending up a quick prayer of forgiveness, “but once cannot help but wonder when they hear strange tales.” 

“The man, twice dead. Always with the same parting message. _Go gentle into this good night_ _.”_

Brother Paul’s eyes widen at the Father’s cryptic message, “but that’s impossible!” 

“Hence why he is called the Impossible Boy.” The Father paused, almost causing Brother Paul to collide in with him, “if he truly is mad, that boy is his madness.” 

They come to the end of the staircase and Brother Paul can see some dim candle light from around the corner. The Father creeped ahead, “forgive the intrusion sir,” he announced. 

They round the corner and Brother Paul gasped at the size of the chamber they had entered. 

It was well lit with more candles than he had ever seen before. In the middle of the chamber was a cloaked figure, standing at an easel. A partially finished portrait of a young man resting there. As he looked around, Brother Paul was startled to see portraits of the young man everywhere. Some were still unfinished, others had been marred with angry lashes of black ink. But what worried him the most were the canvases with holes punched in them, sitting on a pile in the corner. 

“The Bells of Saint John are ringing,” the Father announced, a shake in his voice. 

“Are you sure?” The deep voice of the figure rumbled out. 

“Yes, sir.” 

The man set the paintbrush in his hand down and turned to face them. As he pulled down the hood of his cloak, Brother Paul was shocked at the sight of the man. 

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but carrying the title of the “Mad Monk” made him believe this man would be old and frail, with indications of the Devil’s influence taking hold of his mind. This man was anything but. He was surprisingly young, maybe even younger than himself. This man clearly still had a strong grip on his wits. Even in the candle light, Brother Paul could see the intensity and passion in the man’s stare as he looked between the two of them. 

“Get me a horse,” he demanded. 

**Portland, Maine, 2020.**

Ethan groaned as he was put on hold, _again_. He considered himself to be tech savvy, but he couldn’t control the fact that his internet wasn’t working. He set his phone down on the table and put it on speaker, the copyright free music filtering into his kitchen. 

“Still no luck?” 

“Nothing,” he slumped against the kitchen counter and looked into the living room, the twins that he babysat trying to reset his PS4. 

“I don’t think that it’ll be fixed for a while now. So you might as well get started on your homework.” 

The two boys groaned, desperate to procrastinate for as long as Ethan would let them. 

“Come on Eddy, Tony, you can do it now while the internet’s out, or you can put it off and have to do it when it gets fixed.” 

“You’re not our Dad,” Tony grumbled, as he stomped over to his backpack, Eddy right behind him. 

“Not trying to be,” Ethan cleared a space on the kitchen table and helped the two of them get settled. “I just give your parents a break every once and a while from you two.” 

“We’re eleven, that’s too old to be babysat,” Eddy grumbled.

Ethan rolled his eyes, used to Eddy’s dramatics after nearly two years of babysitting, “I distinctly remember your mom telling me that the first _and only_ time that the two of you were left alone, you almost burned your house down because you put a frozen pizza in the oven, _still in the box_.” 

“That was _Tony_!” Eddy glared at his brother, who had his AirPods in and was attempting to work his way through his math homework. 

“Point still stands, you two need someone to watch you,” Ethan smirked at Eddy as he gave Ethan a dirty look and pulled out a history textbook. 

“If you need any help, I’ll be in my room, trying to get the stupid internet back on.” 

Ethan grabbed his phone off the table, the on hold music still playing as he glanced back at the boys one last time before he walked down the hallway to his bedroom. 

“We appreciate your patience, please stay on the line,” Ethan muttered as he weaved his way through the mess of camera equipment in his room. 

Being a freelance photographer and filmmaker did have its perks. Like right now, when he could spend all the time in the world fighting to get the internet _that he paid for_ to actually work. 

He glanced over at his calendar to see which project needed to be completed first. Nothing was imminently due, but he decided that he could start editing the commercial for one of the local seafood businesses in town. He had all the footage he needed and it was a better alternative than helping Tony and Eddy with homework. He checked his connection one last time and propped his phone up against his monitor, hoping that someone picked up soon. 

**Cumbria, 1207.**

Mark dismounted his horse, the shrill ringing of the TARDIS’ phone echoing around the empty forest. 

“That’s not supposed to happen,” he grumbled, confused as to how anyone got that number. 

He grabbed the torch being held out to him by one of the Brothers and entered the catacombs that held the TARDIS. The familiar blue box stared back at him, the phone still relentlessly ringing. He opened the panel on the front door and picked up the phone, “hello?” 

“Finally! Hi, I can’t find the internet,” a vaguely familiar male voice stated back. 

Mark recoiled in confusion, “I’m sorry?” 

“My internet, it’s not working.”

“Internet?” Mark repeated back, looking over at the look of awe on the Brother’s faces. “It’s 1207!” 

“Well, it’s 3:30 on the East Coast, dude. Are you in a different time zone?” 

Mark started to wander around the catacombs, knowing that the phone cord would go on for as long as he needed, “I mean, kinda?” 

“Great,” the man drawled back, “can’t wait for the long distance charge.” 

“I-I’m sorry, but where did you get this number?” Mark almost tripped over the mess of cord he’s made, both Brother’s legs are fully wound up in the phone cord. 

“The woman at the kyosk wrote it down for me. This is the helpline isn’t it? She said this is the best helpline out there.” 

Mark made a mental note to check who had access to this number, not wanting more people to get their hands on it for having shitty internet problems. But, _technically_ , the man was right, he was the best helpline out there. 

“So, can you tell me why I don’t have any internet right now? Was there an outage that I wasn’t told about?” 

Mark sighed and tried to untangle the mess of cord he’d created, “listen - I’m not - I mean - have you turned it on and off again?” 

There’s a humourless laugh on the other end of the line, “yeah it was the first thing I did. I can see my wifi showing up, but it doesn’t have any bars. _Oh,”_ there’s some static on the other end of the phone and Mark banged his head against the TARDIS, “that was weird, there were some weird red symbols just on my screen. Um - hang on, I’ll try reconnecting again.” 

The man hummed to himself as he waited for his connection to boot back up, “of course it would forget my password. D-N-G-G-I-T-G-N 9-6-1-0. _Do not go gentle into this good ni_ _-”_

Mark goes cold, alarm bells going off in his head. 

_He knew he’d heard that voice somewhere before._

_Ethan._

“What did you say?” Mark demanded, his voice going up a few octaves. 

“What? Oh, it’s just my password, it’s just a phrase I've always liked.” 

Mark dropped the phone in his hand, throwing open the doors to the TARDIS, desperate to get to wherever the hell Ethan currently was. 

_I knew I would find him._

He can hear the shouts of the Brother’s from outside, but Mark has tunnel vision. His hands shook as he tried to start the TARDIS. A loud groan let him know that the TARDIS knew where he wanted to go. His fingers were white with the intensity of the grip he had on the center console. 

**London, England, 2020.**

Rosemary Kizlet admired the wall of screens in front of her, each one containing a different, stolen soul. She approached one of them and listened with satisfaction as the young woman screamed for help, “please! I don’t know where I am!” 

Her superior was sure to be impressed with the speed in which souls were being uploaded. She couldn’t help but laugh at the genius of it all, unprotected wifi truly was the gift that kept on giving. Harvesting unsuspecting souls through the wifi was easier than she had anticipated. People were desperate to not use up their data. Public wifi without a password proved to be a sirens call in the modern age of technology. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a nervous voice said from behind her. “We have a new soul.” 

She picked up her iPad and glanced over to see her newest employee, Alexei, “who is he?” 

“Ethan Nestor, we have a positive lock on his location. I think he’s a good candidate. Very smart with camera equipment, above average understanding of computer software.” 

“Excellect, start the upload.” 

“Right away, ma’am, I’ll send out a spoonhead.” 

“Alexei,” she chastised, ”they’re called _base-stations,_ not spoonheads.” 

Kizlet turned around on her heels and started towards her office, her assistant meeting her halfway there and fell in line, slightly behind her. “I’m rather fond of Alexei, but I have this nagging thought that we should kill him. What do you think, Mahler?” 

The man opened the door to her office for her and gave her a smirk, “I’ll alert HR.” 

“Wait, he’s about to go on vacation, we’ll kill him when he gets back. We aren’t unreasonable.” 

She sat down in her office chair and straightened out her blazer, “did you have other matters to discuss?” 

Mahler nodded his head, “I think we need to slow down with the uploads. If too many people go missing so soon, someone will notice.” 

“If you’re having doubts, let me put it to you this way,” she grabbed the remote in her top drawer and turned the TV in her office on. The screen filled up with panicked faces. “Those people are being preserved in the DataCloud. They have achieved immortality and they don’t even know it.” 

Kizlet grabbed her iPad and swiped across her employee roster until she landed on Mahler. 

“I’m not having any doubts, ma’am, just being cautious.” 

“Good,” she slid down Mahler’s morality bar and watched his eyes glaze over, “my superior has needs.” 

“Did you just hack me?” He asked, his eyes still slightly out of focus. 

“No,” she slid up his obedience bar, “why would I need to do that?” 

Mahler nodded his head and slowly stumbled his way out of her office, closing the door behind him. 

**\--**

Ethan shoved his chair away from his desk at the sound of pounding on his front door, the wheels catching on a loose cord. He made sure his work was saved before he hurried towards the front door, passing the twins, both listening to music and blissfully aware of the asshole who was trying to beat a hole through the door of his townhouse. 

“Holy shit, I’m coming!” He shouted, “I hear you, you can stop banging now!” 

He unlocked his door to reveal a man, older than he was breathing heavily, in some kind of monk’s outfit with a hysterical look in his eye. 

Perfect, he’s opened his door to a religious nut who’s about to tell him about fire and brimstone. 

“Hello?” He asked carefully, keeping the door partially closed. 

“Ethan?” He gasped, his hands grabbing at the air in front of him, “ _Ethan Nestor Darling?”_

“Um, just Ethan Nestor, but that’s me…” 

The man looked Ethan up and down, like he couldn’t believe he was real. It was starting to creep Ethan out. “Can I help you?” 

“Do you remember me?” The man pleaded. 

“Should I?” Ethan thought back to all the cosplays he’d photographed lately or any commercials he’d done, but he couldn’t remember meeting a monk. He also didn’t make a habit of giving clients his personal address. 

“It’s me!” He said like he was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Me who?” 

“The Doctor!”

“Doctor who?” 

“Exactly! He shouted, clapping his hands together, “can you say it again?” 

“Say what? Doctor who?” 

“Yes! I love when people say that!” 

Ethan looked at the man with a blank look on his face, finished with the conversation, “look, I’m sorry but I don’t want whatever you’re selling,” he closed the door in the man’s face. 

“Wait! Ethan please, I just need to talk to you!” The man shouted, banging on the door again. How Eddy and Tony couldn’t hear the lunatic, Ethan didn’t know. 

“Why are you still here?” He demanded. 

“Because you called me!” 

Ethan yanked the door back open, “What? What are you talking about?” 

“You were looking for the internet!” 

Ethan’s baffled, “that was you?” 

“Of course it was me!” 

“How’d you get here so fast? You said you were in a different time zone.” 

The man shrugged, “I was just in the neighbourhood,” he stepped back to reveal a blue police box behind him, “I was on my mobile phone.” 

“When you said, ‘mobile phone,’ are you referring to that blue box behind you?” 

The man beamed with pride, “yes I am, it’s a surprisingly accurate description!” 

Ethan nodded his head, “Ok, I’ve heard enough, goodbye.” 

He slammed the door and headed back into the kitchen, Eddy and Tony mysteriously vanished. He checked their open notebooks and was satisfied to see that they had gotten a good chunk of work done and had probably gone into his backyard to waste time. 

A creak in his hardwood floor had him pausing before a kid around Eddy and Tony’s age creeped around the corner, a blank expression on his face. 

“Um hi,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “are you one of Eddy and Tony’s friends?” 

“I am one of Eddy and Tony’s friends,” the kid replied, robotically. 

Ethan took a step back and didn’t like the way his heart started to race, “how did you get in? Did you jump over the fence and come in the back door?” 

“I came in the back door,” there was no life behind the kid’s eyes as he slowly approached. 

“Do - do you need me to call your parents for you? Are you alright?” 

Ethan’s eyes widened in horror as the kid’s head slowly started to spin around with a mechanical whir, revealing a concave dish where the rest of his skull should have been. The same red symbols that had briefly appeared on Ethan’s monitor scrolled across the surface. 

“What the fu -” 

\--

“Fucking idiot, I’m so fucking stupid!” Mark muttered to himself as he wandered around the middle of the TARDIS. “Of course he wouldn’t remember you, the last time he saw you was more than a century ago! And that probably wasn’t even him!” 

Mark caught sight of himself in one of the TARDIS’ monitors and groaned, “I still look like a fucking monk, no wonder he looked scared.” 

He started to pull off the monk’s tunic as he stormed towards his bedroom, leaving everything in a pile on the floor as he weaved his way through the mess of clothes he’d left scattered around the room. 

“What are the odds you’d ever see a monk in _Portland? In 2020?”_

Mark threw open the doors to his closet, automatically reaching for a hoodie before he paused, Ethan deserved a little better than that. Instead he reached for a pair of his jeans and a geometric print button-up short sleeve. He made sure his hair looked decent before grabbing his sonic screwdriver and hoped to make a better impression than the _Mad Monk._

He knocked on Ethan’s front door again, the sounds of kids playing echoing around the neighbourhood. “Ethan, can we please talk? I’m not a monk anymore!” 

“I don’t understand,” Ethan’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.” 

“I know, that’s my fault, but I promise to explain it all to you.” 

“I don’t know…” 

“Please, it’s important,” Mark begged. 

“... where I am.” 

Mark reached into his back pocket for his sonic, “Ethan are you alright?” 

“I don’t know where I am,” panic was evident in Ethans’ voice, “where am I? I don’t know where I am!” 

“Ethan!” Mark waved his sonic to unlock the door and burst inside, his heart in his throat as he saw Ethan’s unconscious body in the middle of the hallway. 

_Not when I just found you._

He fell to his knees in front of Ethan’s body and pressed his fingers to Ethan’s neck. He breathed out in relief at the steady, but weak pulse under his fingers.

“I don’t know where I am! Where am I? I don’t know where I am!” Ethan’s disembodied voice cried out. 

Mark quickly looked around, trying to find the source of Ethan’s voice and he saw red when his eyes landed on what appeared to be the body of a child with a screen instead of a head, Ethan’s terrified face staring back at him. 

“Please, I don’t know where I am!” 

He quickly stood up and aimed his sonic at the kid, his human appearance giving way to reveal a crude looking robotic skeleton. 

“A walking wifi base-station,” he muttered, his mind moving a mile a minute, “the wifi!”

He carefully picked Ethan up and let his sonic lead him to what must have been his bedroom. Carefully placing him onto his bed, Mark stumbled past all the camera equipment to Ethan’s computer, red symbols streaming across the screen almost faster than Mark could see. The only thing his eyes could focus on was the progres bar, showing a 60% upload. 

“I don’t fucking think so,” Mark seethed, quickly sitting in Ethan’s desk chair, his fingers flying over the keyboard. 

**\--**

“We have a problem!” Alexei shouted, staring in disbelief at his computer screen. 

“What appears to be the issue,” Kizlet asked impatiently as he loomed over his shoulder. 

“Ethan Nestor, ma’am,” his fingers stalled as he panicked, trying to think of how to salvage the upload as the progress bar dropped down to 45%, “someone is trying to reverse the upload!” 

Kizlet’s nails dug into his shoulder, “is that even possible?” 

“If the upload isn't complete, then yes, it clearly can happen - it’s happening _right now_.” 

“Stop it! That’s an order, we’ve already spliced important data packages with him!” 

His fingers fumbled over the keyboard, “I’m trying, ma’am. Whoever is doing this clearly knows what they’re doing!” 

The two of them watched as the progress bar plummeted to below 20%. 

“Alexei, we’re losing him!” 

“I - I don’t know what to do, this hasn’t happened before!” 

The progress bar disappeared and a window popped up, the angry red lettering telling them that the upload had been cancelled. 

“Be in my office in fifteen minutes, Alexei,” Kizlet hissed, “I’m going to contact my superior and you’re going to explain this colossal disaster.” 

A message popped up on his screen and he gasped, “the hacker just sent a message.” 

Kizlet shoved him out of the way, causing him to fall to the floor as she screamed in rage before quickly composing herself. “Figure out how this happened, there is no time to waste. I want Ethan Nestor labeled as a priority upload.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he stuttered, watching as she glared daggers at him before storming to her office. 

Alexit tried to calm his breathing, he pulled himself back into his chair and reread the message over and over again. 

_Under my protection. Fuck off - The Doctor._

**\--**

Mark watched as the base-station shut down and crumpled into a heap on the floor. He ran back down the hallway as he heard Ethan gasp for breath and start coughing. 

“Ethan!” He cried, shoving the camera equipment aside as he knelt at Ethan’s bedside. “Are you ok?” 

Ethan placed his hands on his chest and tried to catch his breath, his unfocused eyes fluttered around the room before landing on Mark. 

“It’s ok, you’re gonna be fine.” Mark soothed as his hands hovered, unsure of whether to touch Ethan or not. 

“Doctor?” He mumbled, his eyes fighting to stay open. 

“I’m right here, you’re ok. Get some rest, I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Ethan sluggishly nodded his head and rolled onto his side, sound asleep almost instantly. 

Mark finally relaxed and raked his hands through his hair. _He’d almost lost him again_. 

He rolled his shoulders back and finally let himself examine Ethan’s bedroom. It was a decent size, but you wouldn’t know it with all the camera equipment inside. Mark grimaced at the pile of expensive looking equipment he’d shoved over in his haste and carefully started to set it back up, hoping none of it was broken. 

Once he was sure everything was back in its rightful place, his eyes landed on the book on Ethan’s nightstand. It was a well worn photography book and Mark carefully opened it, hearing the worn spine crack in protest. 

The front page made Mark smile involuntarily. In poorly scribbled writing it read, “Property of Ethan Nestor, age 6.” The 6 had been crossed out over the years and all his subsequent ages were written underneath, his handwriting changing as he aged, all the way to age twenty-three. 

Mark turned the page finding a bright red maple leaf pressed between the pages, resting on a picture of a lighthouse. He carefully closed the book and set it back down. Instead focusing on the pictures framed on the walls. Mark suspected Ethan had taken them himself and skimmed the images, wondering if they were friends or family. 

“Hey Ethan? Where are you? What’s this thing in the hallway?” A panicked voice shouted out. 

_Shit._

_\--_

Ethan groaned and blinked his eyes open, stretching out his tensed up limbs. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck and couldn’t remember why. He glanced over at the clock on his bedside table, 7:45, the digital clock showed him. _He’d been out for a long time._ Ethan didn’t remember coming to bed, the last thing he remembered was the weird man at his door. He shot up, panic flooding his system as he remembered about Eddy and Tony. 

He stumbled out of bed and raced down the hallway, “ _Eddy! Tony!”_

He skidded to a stop in the kitchen, the sounds of Call of Duty coming from the living room as the two boys whipped off their headphones and looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Ethan!” They both shouted, jumping over the back of the couch to collide into his middle. 

A surprised ‘oof’ escaped him as he instinctively wrapped his arms around the twins .”I’m ok, I’m ok. What happened?” 

Tony let go first and started explaining with large hand gestures, “Eddy and I went outside to play catch for a bit and we heard some shouting. So I came back inside and there was this big robot on the floor. Then your friend Mark showed up and told us that you had hurt yourself carrying in the robot for your next shoot and said you were resting in bed… and, and -” Tony had to pause his rambling to catch his breath, “and then Mark bought us pizza and said he would be outside waiting until you woke up.”

Ethan tried to make sense of what Tony had just said and was hung up on one detail, “my friend Mark? Is outside?” 

Tony nodded his head, “yeah, he has a cool box that’s bigger on the inside.” 

“Ok, I’m gonna go talk to… Mark, and you two can just stay in here alright?” Ethan rubbed his hand comfortingly against Eddy’s back and smiled at the two of them, trying not to let the confusion and lethargy show. 

“Ok, we saved you some pizza if you’re hungry,” Eddy mumbled when he let go. 

He could tell that the two of them were still nervous over what had happened and placed a hand on each of their shoulders and knelt down to their eye level, “hey, I’m alright. Just overworked myself, that’s all. I promise I’ll be back in for pizza soon, ok?” 

The two of them nodded, looking slightly more relieved and hopped back over the couch to get back to their game. 

Ethan hesitantly glanced over at the front door and wondered what would be waiting for him on the other side. _He didn’t have a friend named Mark._

The man from earlier is in his driveway, right in front of his box. The light at the top of it, combined with the old street lights painted an orange glow around the man. Ethan cautiously approached as the man waved some kind of glowing tool over a set of metal odds and ends that vaguely resembled a skeleton. He had changed out of the monk clothes and Ethan might not have recognized him if it wasn’t for the blue box from earlier. 

“I thought you said your name was the Doctor?” He called out, “why’d you tell the twins it was Mark?” 

The man nearly dropped the tool he was holding as his head snapped over to Ethan. He fumbled it in his hands for a second before he quickly strode over to him. 

“Are you feeling better?” He asked instead of answering Ethan’s question. 

“Who are you?” Ethan demanded. 

“Technically, my name is the Doctor, but Mark also works.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“How’d I end up in bed?” He questioned. 

“I didn’t think you would remember,” Mark responded cryptically. 

“What did I miss?” 

The corner of Mark’s mouth twitched into a smile, “not much.” He pulled out a small notepad and flipped through the pages, “Mr. Burback called and said he would be late picking up the kids and he’s really sorry about it. Your dad also called and wanted to know if you were interested in shooting an infomercial for the Warden’s Service about the importance of wearing orange during hunting season.” 

Ethan shook his head and tried to smile. This version of Mark was much more endearing than the version he had met earlier. 

“I did the dishes, fixed the rattling in your washer, helped the boys with their homework and then bought pizza.” He finished with a satisfied smile and shoved his hands into his pockets. 

“So what actually happened?” He questioned. 

“You really don’t remember?” Mark asked cautiously. 

Ethan shook his head and tried to piece together the foggy pieces of his memory, “I was scared… and I didn’t know where I was.” 

“Do you know where you are now?” Mark asked quietly, his eyes flickering over Ethan’s face. 

“I’m home,” he nodded, “with Eddy, Tony and… you.” 

Mark gave him a small smile, “that’s good.” 

A pair of headlights pulled up the driveway and Ethan held a hand in front of his face, able to make out Mr. Burback’s car. He waved to him and reached into his pocket for his phone to text the twins before he remembered he left it inside. 

“I should let the twins kn-” 

Ethan didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Tony and Eddy were running out his front door with their backpacks. 

“Bye Ethan! See you next tomorrow after school!” 

“It was nice to meet you, Mark! Thank you for the pizza!”

He waved goodbye as the boys got in their dad’s car. With a quick wave from Mr. Burback and a honk, they were off, leaving him alone with Mark once again. 

“As I was about to say,” Mark leaned in to place a hand on Ethan’s forehead, “you still feel a little warm. You should go back to bed.” 

Mark started to walk back towards the blue box, “nothing will happen to you, I’ll keep you safe.” 

Ethan watched in amusement as Mark meandered back to his blue box, before he opened the door and pulled out a folding chair

“Are you gonna keep watch?”

Mark settled himself in the chair, kicking his foot at the pile of metal in front of him, “of course, I have this pile of junk to keep me entertained all night. I won’t move from this spot.” 

“Coffee or redbull?” 

“What?” 

Ethan smirked, “if we’re gonna be out here all night, we might need something to keep us awake. Coffee or redbull?” 

_“We?”_ Mark squawked, “you should get your rest.” 

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, already heading back towards the front door, his mind made up, “last chance!” 

“Coffee please!” Mark shouted behind him. 

\-- 

Kizlet studied the black and white footage of the blue box from the Nest doorbell across the street with thinly concealed rage. 

“Nestor’s there I presume?” 

Alexei typed away on his keyboard and the image began to zoom in closer to the box, remnants of a base-station scattered around the ground. “I have visual confirmation that he’s there, ma’am. Along with who I presume is responsible for the canceled download.” 

At the sight of the man, _the Doctor_ , Kizlet’s lip curled in disgust. She noted the way that he constantly surveilled his surroundings, as if anticipating her next move. She grabbed her iPad and dragged up Alexei’s IQ bar, “find a way to get that boy, activate the whole neighbourhood if you have to.” 

\-- 

“Careful, these are hot,” Ethan warned as he handed Mark the hot mug of coffee. He had managed to dig out an old folding chair from his garage and coupled with a few blankets, had both of them wrapped up, listening to the sounds of crickets chirping. 

“I’m glad you’re not actually a monk,” he teased, blowing on his coffee, “not gonna lie, you had me kinda spooked.” 

Mark gave him a sheepish grin, “let’s not talk about that and forget it ever happened.” 

“I don’t know,” Ethan mused, “that’s a pretty great story to tell.” 

He glanced over at Mark and swore he caught him staring as he quickly went to sip his coffee. 

“I like your house,” Mark observed, “it fits you really well.” 

“Thanks, it’s not everyday a freelance twenty-three year old videographer can afford something like this. I’ve been really fortunate… Watching the twins also helped out a lot when I was in tighter situations.” 

Ethan wrapped his blanket around himself a little tighter, he truly was thankful for the Burback family. While watching Tony and Eddy started out as a favour to a family friend and an easy way to earn some extra money, the boys really had helped break up the monotony of his week. 

Mark nodded his head in understanding, “right, right, you watch the kids because you’re a governor like -” 

Ethan cocked his eyebrow in confusion, “governor? Like the government kind of governor?” 

Mark quickly shook his head and laughed nervously, “no, it’s just an old term for a babysitter, that’s all.” 

Ethan scanned Mark’s face, not sure if he believed him or not, “so are you gonna tell me what happened?” He asked instead. 

Mark’s shoulders sagged in what Ethan almost thought was relief, “yeah, right. Um. So you called about the internet being out.” 

Ethan nodded in confirmation and Mark pulled out his tool, that Ethan had been told was his sonic screwdriver and started flipping it in his hand. “The best way I can explain it, is that there’s something in the wifi.” 

He almost burnt his mouth on the large gulp of coffee he took in surprise, _“what?”_

“Think about it, the whole world depends on the internet and wifi. Someone’s out in public and finds a company’s free, unlocked wifi. People never read the terms and conditions when they agree to connect. Let’s say there’s something inside it, like something was living in it. And that thing is harvesting human minds, extracting them for whatever reason.” Ethan can’t help but grimace at the thought. “Human souls trapped like a bug in the world wide web, forever, crying for help.” 

“That’s literally Twitter,” he said impulsively. 

Mark groaned and threw his head back before looking at Ethan with an amused grin, “yeah I guess it is, isn’t it?” 

“God bless Twitter dot com,” he said in a mock solute as he lifted his mug, “full of memes, depressed millennials and crazy conspiracy theorists!”

“Shut up and listen to my theory,” Mark laughed, “so this stupid robot, is a walking base-station. WIth me so far?” 

Ethan nodded his head.

“It tried to upload you to, wherever. Some server that’s full of victims. I haven’t been able to trace it back anywhere. But wherever you went, they chose you for a reason. And whatever that reason is, I bet they’re gonna wanna come back and finish the job.” 

Ethan gulped and felt his body go cold, despite the blanket and scalding coffee, “w-what do you mean by ‘finish the job’?”

Mark gave him a grim look, “someone or something is after you, Ethan. They want whatever asset to pose to them.” 

Mark quickly stood up and started scanning around them, the faded fabric of Ethan’s old _Cars_ blanket clung to his shoulders like a cloak, his sonic screwdriver held tight in his fist. “Look for anything unusual.”

Ethan tried not to panic as Mark suddenly stopped and swore, “Ethan, get in the box, _now.”_

He didn’t have time to react before Mark grabbed him by the wrist, sending his mug crashing onto the driveway, as he was pulled towards the blue box. 

Ethan planted his feet on the ground and resisted, “what why?” 

“That’s why!” Mark pointed to the silhouette of a man in one of the flickering street lights. “Look at the lights!” 

Ethan finally noticed the way every house was turning on their lights, despite it being well into the night, “what’s going on? Is the wifi doing that?” 

Mark tried to tug him along, “no, the people are turning on the lights, but the wifi is turning on the people. Now _let’s go!”_

Ethan had a horrible sense of deja-vu as the man’s head started to spin, “Mark what the fuck is happening?” 

“It’s another base station, like the one from earlier.” 

“The one from earlier was a kid, I don’t understand!” 

“They must have pulled it from your subconscious, did he look familiar to you in any way?” 

Ethan shook his head, “I don’t think - _oh my god!”_

Ethan mind raced as he remembered the family portraits he had shot a week prior, of a family with an only child. An only child that looked identical to the one had been in his house. 

“I’m gonna throw up,” the nausea hit him like a truck and he slumped against Mark, “the kid from earlier, I photographed his family last week - how is that possible?” 

Mark cursed as more lights started to turn on. “Active camouflage. Fuck me, why didn’t I think of that before? _They could be everywhere!”_

A loud roar sounded over their heads and they both looked up to see blinking red lights quickly descending from the clouds. 

“What the fuck is that?”

“Jesus Christ, I forgot planes have wifi!” 

Ethan stared in disbelief, “are you telling me that a _plane_ is about to crash onto my street?” 

“Yes, you’re clearly one hell of a target! You. Me. Box. _Now!”_ With one final tug, Ethan finally let Mark lead him to the box, fumbling with a key before throwing open the doors, dragging Ethan inside. 

Ethan gasped as the lights inside the box turned on, leaning against the railing in shock. 

The doors closed behind them and Mark whipped his blanket off his shoulders and handed it to Ethan, who took it, dumbfounded. “Mark, what the fuck?” 

“It’s a spaceship,” Mark said, distractedly flipping switches and levers, “it’s called the TARDIS, it’s bigger on the inside. I’ll explain later.” 

Ethan’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, as he stumbled his way over to the center console, Mark automatically moving around him like he wasn’t even there. 

“This is gonna suck,” he heard Mark mutter, “short jumps are always the hardest.” 

“But - but -” Ethan stammered as his brain tries to process everything, “it’s _bigger on the inside!”_

Ethan stumbled back as the TARDIS shuddered. He reached his hands out in desperation and latched onto Mark’s arm, dropping the blankets on the floor. Seemingly on instinct, Mark tugged him into his side without looking away from the console. “It can be a bumpy ride sometimes.” 

They both glanced up as the TARDIS groaned and Mark gave him a dazzling smile, “let’s go.” 

With a gentle push, Mark guided him forward towards the doors. 

“We’re going back out there? With the wifi-things?” 

“It’s a spaceship, Ethan, we flew!” 

“Away from the evil wifi?” 

Mark laughed, “not exactly!” 

Mark threw the doors open and charged ahead, into the narrow aisle of a plane. All of the passengers slumped in their seats, completely unconscious. 

His eyes widened in panic and quickly hurried after Mark, who was trying his best to pull himself forward, despite the turbulence. “Mark are we on _the plane?_ How did we get here?” 

“I told you, it’s a spaceship,” Mark called over his shoulder, dodging out of the way of an oxygen mask. 

Ethan could hardly look at the lax faces of the passengers as he tried to keep pace with Mark, “are all these people dead?” 

“Just sleeping, the wifi turned them off, keep your eyes on me!” 

He did as he was told and grabbed the seat ahead of him, trying to pull himself forward. 

He caught up with Mark in the cockpit, both pilots slumped against their seatbelts, “what are you doing?” 

Mark frantically waved his sonic screwdriver around before grabbing onto the yoke, “what does it look like? I’m trying to save everyone!” 

Ethan shook his head, “this can’t be real, I’m dreaming, _there is no way this is real!”_

“Oh you better believe it’s real,” Mark grit through his teeth as he concentrated trying to level out the plane, “I’m the Doctor. I’m an alien from outer space. I’m over a thousands years old, I have two hearts and I don’t know how to fly a fucking plane! Do you?” 

“I’ve only ever played flight sim a few times!” He squawked as he clung onto Mark’s middle as the angle of the plane started to shift. 

“Hang on tight!” He heard Mark yell as he leaned back into Ethan’s chest, pulling on the yoke as hard as he could. 

Ethan couldn’t bear to look, he shoved his face between Mark’s shoulder blades and squeezed his arms around him as tight as he could. “How can you fly a spaceship, but not a fucking plane?!” 

“Will you shut up!” Mark hissed, “I just need to balance it out and we should be able to start ascending again!” 

“Well do it faster!” 

“I’m trying!” 

“Try harder!” 

He felt the grumbles in Mark’s chest as he protested and started fiddling with switches on the plane’s console, “I hope this works!” 

Ethan braced as Mark pulled back again and Ethan could feel the change in the plane’s elevation, “Mark it’s working!” 

He could feel the vibrations of Mark’s laughter against his chest and he dared to peak out over Mark’s shoulder. Relief flooding through him as he couldn’t see the streets from the cockpit windows anymore. 

“See, nothing to be worried about,” Mark boasted, “I had this whole thing under control. Never doubted anything for a second.” Mark placed his sweaty hand on Ethan’s and gently squeezed it in reassurance. 

“Now let’s wake everybody up.” 

Mark reached into his back pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He aimed it at the control panel and Ethan watched as the angry red wifi symbol turned off, and the pilots started to stir. 

“What the hell is going on?” One of them gasped and reached out for the yoke, “how did you get in here?” 

Mark ignored him, “I’m blocking your wifi, it’s called ‘Airplane Mode’ for a reason. But you should request landing clearance at the nearest airport, immediately.” 

Mark tapped at his hands, “c’mon, that’s our signal to leave.” 

Ethan reluctantly let him go and allowed Mark to guide him back through the plane of waking passengers by the hand, in a daze. 

Once they were safely back inside the TARDIS, Ethan sat down on the floor cross-legged and held his face in his hands, _what the fuck just happened?_

He could see Mark’s feet skirting around the console and heard the wheeze of the TARDIS as it took off, before Mark sat down in front of him, a look of concern on his face. “Are you ok?” 

He shook his head and tried to sort through the mess in his brain, “I don’t know, will you please tell me what is going on?” 

Mark placed his hand on his knee and squeezed, grounding him. “How about I tell you over breakfast?” 

“Mark I really can’t wait that long for an answer, _please tell me!”_ He begged, dragging his hands through his hair. 

“Ethan, we’re in a time machine,” Mark smirked, “you never have to wait for _anything._ ” 

\--

“I don’t understand how a box could just _disappear_ out of thin air!” Kizlet shrieked, her hair a frazzled mess. She glared at the wall of surveillance monitors they had hacked into and almost hissed in rage as not one of them showed the box, or Ethan Nestor. 

“Get access to all the CCTV footage you can find in Portland,” she ordered, “go nation-wide if you need to. I don’t care how long this takes, _no one sleeps until we find that box!”_

\--

Mark threw the TARDIS doors open with a smile, sunlight streaming into the TARDIS.

“Let’s go, Eth,” he grinned, the nickname coming out with ease. 

Ethan cautiously followed him, first looking up in confusion at the sudden daylight, and then again at his surroundings, “um, this isn’t Portland.” 

“I knew I picked you because you were smart,” Mark teased, leaning up against the TARDIS, “I thought I would show off a little, show you what this baby can do.” 

“Mark,” Ethan gasped, “we’re in London, _we’re in England!”_

Mark clapped his hands and laughed at Ethan’s amazement, “what sold it first? The big clock tower? Or the big ferris wheel? Wait - wait, don’t tell me… It’s the river right? The River Thames?” 

“Fuck off,” Ethan laughed. Mark’s stomach doing somersaults at the sound. 

“Stay right here,” Mark told him as he jogged back into the TARDIS, “I’m just heading back to the garage!” 

“Garage?” He heard Ethan over his shoulder, “how is that possible?” 

Mark laughed as he hurried to find what he was looking for. First he stopped to pick up and fold Ethan’s blankets, before draping them over the railing, then he made a beeline for the garage. He quickly mounted his motorcycle and made sure he had grabbed an extra helmet for Ethan before revving the bike to life. 

He carefully maneuvered the bike through the TARDIS, stopping at the console to pick up the laptop he had the TARDIS download Ethan’s computer onto and carefully placed it into the bike’s sidebag. He could see Ethan’s figure staring out at the Thames in wonder and a smile crept its way onto his face at the unfiltered joy he saw. 

Ethan heard him before he saw him and when he turned around at the noise, his jaw dropped. “How?” 

“It’s bigger on the inside,” he said cockily, flipping up the visor of his helmet, “wanna go for a drive?” 

“But - but who’s gonna watch the TARDIS?” Ethan sputtered. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark snapped his fingers and the TARDIS doors closed, “I told you, I have everything under control.” 

He lavished in the look of awe on Ethan’s face and held out the helmet, “what d’ya say?” 

Ethan yanked the helmet out of his grip and hopped on behind him, shimmying up until their thighs were touching and Mark could feel Ethan’s chest against his back. Every point of contact between the two felt like sparks shooting up his spine. And when Ethan wrapped his arms around his middle, his brain short-circuited. “Alright I’m ready,” he said, muffled from the helmet. 

“I hope you know that you’re paying,” Ethan laughed as they took off down the street. 

“Obviously,” Mark shouted over his shoulder, “I’m the one that asked you out on this date!” 

Ethan’s grip tightened, _“date?_ I thought it was just breakfast!” 

“Same thing,” Mark said flippantly, focusing on the early morning traffic. 

They fell into a comfortable silence and Mark could finally appreciate the weight of Ethan behind him. He hadn’t been able to do it earlier in the plane, because he’d been busy saving the day. But now he was highly aware of the even the slightest tense of Ethan’s arms. Mark vowed to himself that he would never lose Ethan again. 

“So, is this tomorrow?” Ethan asked when they were stopped at a red light. “You made tomorrow come early?” 

Mark felt a fond smile creep onto his face, “no it came at the same time, we just took a shortcut.” 

“One last thing.” 

“Shoot,” Mark said as the light turned green. 

“I’m trying my best to keep up with everything, but the one thing I don’t understand: if you have a flying, time machine, why are we on a motorcycle?” 

“I never take the TARDIS into battle,” he responded.

“Because it’s just a wooden box?” Ethan guessed. 

“No it’s the most powerful ship in the universe and I would rather die than let it fall into the wrong hands.” 

“So we left the most powerful ship in the universe on a random street in London? Makes sense.” 

Mark rolled his eyes, “it’s locked and has the best security system to have ever existed, it’ll be fine.” 

“Whatever you say, Mark.” 

\--

Mark took them to a rooftop cafe that overlooked the river. Ethan had protested, knowing that it would be far too expensive. But Mark had waved him off and insisted, going as far as to pull out his chair for him. 

“So,” he started as soon as their breakfast arrived, “if we can travel anywhere in time and space, why the next morning?” 

Mark bit into his toast, “whoever’s after us has spent the whole night looking for us.” 

Ethan watched in amusement as Mark waved the half-eaten slice of bread around, “are you tired?” 

“Yes,” he responded, taking a large gulp of the second coffee he’d had in the last three hours.

“Imagine how they feel,” Mark gave him a cocky smile that made his heart flutter, “they had to take the long way.” 

They got halfway through their breakfast when Mark grabbed the laptop he had brought and set it onto the table. 

“Last night I managed to track their signal back to London, that’s why we’re here. But beyond that, I haven’t been able to find anything concrete.” 

“So you’re really an alien?” He interrupted, his eyes flickering over Mark’s completely human looking face. 

Mark leaned back in his chair, “yeah I am. Got a problem with it?” 

Ethan shook his head, “not at all. That’s the most normal thing I’ve heard in the last twenty-four hours.” 

Mark threw his head back as he laughed and Ethan couldn’t help but smile involuntarily. 

“So what happens when you find these guys?” He pressed, curious to know Mark’s plan. 

“Not a fucking clue.” 

“How can you not have a plan?” 

Mark shrugged, “I can’t tell the future, I just work there.” 

“But everyone has a plan!” He insisted. 

“Tell me, Ethan, how long have you been watching the twins?” Mark asked instead.

Ethan slumped back in his chair, taken aback, “like two-ish years.” 

“Why? I mean, no offense, but you don’t really seem like a nanny.” 

Ethan shrugged, “I don’t really think that’s any of your business.” 

Mark grimaced, “you’re right, I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Ethan pushed down the weird feeling in his stomach and grabbed at the laptop, “gimme.” 

Mark squawked and grabbed the laptop back, “I don’t think so.” 

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest, “you need to know where these people are, like a physical location?” 

“Yes,” Mark said cautiously. 

“I can do it,” he said confidently, reaching back out ot snatch the laptop from Mark. “You’ve already hacked their lower level system to get us this far. I can have their physical location in under five minutes.” 

“I’m an alien and I can’t do it, what makes you think you can?” 

Ethan looked up from where he was already typing to see Mark’s annoyed looking face. “Quit moping. You’re looking at the guy who can hack this system. They want me for a reason.” 

He glanced up and saw Mark looking at him like he saw a ghost and felt an uncomfortable shiver go down his spine. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” 

Mark snapped out of it and shook his head, “it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. Do you want another coffee?” 

Ethan shrugged, “why not? Let’s see what’ll kill me first, the caffeine or the evil wifi.” 

Mark stood up and Ethan saw him make it halfway towards the inside of the cafe before he turned around, “being a nanny,” he started, “isn’t that a little bit, _Victorian?”_

“Victorian?” He replied, confused why Mark was so hung up on this. 

“You’re young, shouldn’t you be out, doing I don’t know, young people things?” 

“What, like you?” He chirped, looking Mark up and down. 

Mark looked at him in horror, “that’s no- I- _shut up!”_

Ethan laughed, “just go get the coffee, idiot. Cold brew, please.” 

\--

Mark walked up to the counter, eyeing the wide variety of fresh pastries and desserts. He debated on getting Ethan a chocolate filled croissant when the eldery barista approached the counter, “what can I help you with, sir?” 

“Hi, can I get a cold brew with a chocolate filled croissant please?” 

The man gave him a kind smile and nodded his head, “certainly, I’ll have it ready in a moment.” 

Mark thanked the man and let his eyes wander across the decorative displays of macarons and cake-pops.

“You do realize you don’t have the slightest chance of saving your little friend?” 

Mark looked up as the lights flickered, his eyes wide. 

“Pardon?” 

The lights flickered again. 

“I asked how your morning’s been,” the man replied, before his entire demeanor changed and he glared at Mark with dead eyes. “I said you don’t have the slightest chance of saving you friend.” 

Mark felt panic start to rise in his chest as the old man continued to glare at him “please don’t annoy the old man, he isn’t the one speaking.” 

The lights flickered again and Mark could feel the static in the air as the old man resumed his order. 

“I am speaking,” he heard a voice behind him say. 

He spun around to meet the dead eyes of a waitress, her drink tray held limp in her hand, “just using whoever’s closest.” 

Mark’s eyes scanned the cafe, no one else appeared to notice that anything was wrong. 

“He’s cute,” the waitress said, still no life behind her eyes, “I can make him like you if that’s what you want.” 

There’s a crackle of electricity and the waitress shook her head before the life returned back to her eyes, “I’m sorry do you need something sir?” 

“No, no I’m fine thanks.” He said. He gave the women one last glance before he hurried back outside. 

Ethan’s still where he left him, his head hunched over the laptop as his fingers flew over the keyboard. 

“Still alright out here?” He asked, slightly breathless. 

Ethan nodded his head, looking up to give him a smile, “fine, still working my way through it. Where’s my coffee?” 

Mark gave him a nervous laugh and quickly looked around for anything out of the ordinary, “it’s coming, just came to see how you were doing.” 

Ethan gave him a look, “I'm doing great, thanks Mark.” 

He nodded his head hesitantly, before motioning towards the inside of the cafe, “ok, I’ll just be in there if you need me. Don’t be afraid to shout.” 

He walked backwards the whole way back into the cafe, not wanting to take his eyes off Ethan for a second. 

As soon as he was back inside, the same waitress was swarming him again, “I want you to take a look at what you’re up against.” She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him further inside, “let’s take a stroll, so you can see how impossible your situation is.” 

The waitress wandered away and Mark was left standing in the middle of the cafe, electricity crackling as people started moving about. Giving him odd looks as he glared at everyone that passed him, trying to decipher who the next target would be. 

A little girl abruptly stood up, “just look at what complete control of the wifi can do.” 

“Stop!” She shouted, causing everyone in the cafe to freeze. 

“I saw what you can do last night, “he growled, “leave these people out of this.” 

The girl snapped her fingers and everyone, including herself went back to what they had been doing, blissfully unaware of the danger they were in. 

“We can hack anyone with the wifi,” Mark heard the news anchor on the TV behind him say, “as long as they’ve been exposed long enough. But who hasn’t been exposed to the wonders of wifi in this time and age?” Mark hated the way the achor appeared to look right at him, which he knew was impossible. The woman wasn’t even with him.

“So there’s a base-station neatby,” he said aloud, knowing he would be heard. 

“There’s always someone,” the other anchor said, “we’ve released thousands of them into the world. You thought you fooled us by leaving the US, but we can find you no matter where in the world you are.” 

“I don’t know who you are, or why you’re doing this,” Mark said dangerously, “but this planet is under my protection. The people of earth are under my protection. I won’t let you contro-” 

The anchors both laughed, making Mark’s skin crawl at the lack of emotion behind it, “the people of this earth will not be harmed. My superior merely requires a steady diet of living minds. He cares for humanity a great deal, he can’t get enough humans!” 

“That’s murder!” 

“No, Doctor, it’s called the circle of life. The farmer tends lovingly to his flock. Think of it like this; no one loves cattle more than McDonalds.” 

“This ends today!” He spat, rage consuming him. 

“But how, Doctor?” The anchor taunted, “you don’t even know where we are. Even if your little boy-toy can find us, it’s not going to save him.” 

\--

Ethan wiped his forehead as sweat beaded at his temples. His fingers flew across the keys. He knew he was good with computers, but he didn’t think he was _this good._ Pictures of employees started to flood onto his screen as he hacked into their webcams. He dragged the pictures into a facial recognition software and pumped his fist into the air as social media platforms started popping up. 

The one consistent thing amongst all the employees was their workplace, _the Shard._

“I did it!” He said in disbelief, “I fucking did it!” 

He looked up to see Mark approaching him. 

“Mark, I did it! I told you I could find them!” 

“You found them,” Mark replied. 

“They’re at the Shard! On the sixty-fifth floor!” 

“Sixty-fifth floor,” Mark said flatly. 

Annoyance pricked at Ethan’s brain at Mark’s flippant attitude, “are you not listening to me? I found them!” 

“I’m listening to you,” Mark repeated as his head started to spin, “you found them.” 

Ethan hardly had time to react before he blacked out. 

\--

“Ethan!” He shouted, running back outside, “did you-” 

Mark goes ice-cold as he’s met with his own face staring back at him, Ethan slumped over at the table. 

“Fuck me!” He shouted, shoving the imposter aside to check on Ethan. He sighed out in relief as he realized it was the same situation as before and Ethan was still breathing. 

“Mark!” Ethan cried from the base-station, “Mark help me! I don’t know where I am! Mark please, I don’t know where I am!” 

Mark looked at the laptop screen and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw Ethan had found their location. 

“You really did it,” he mumbled into Ethan’s ear, brushing the stray hairs out of his eyes, “I’ll get you back. Don’t worry.” 

\--

“We’ve got him!” Alexei shouted, “Nestor! We really got him this time.” 

Nestor’s terrified face stared back at them, from the wall of faces, his upload bar at 100%. 

“Well done, Alexei,” Kizlet said, “this makes up for your disaster earlier.” 

“Should I delete him, ma’am?” He asked, “is he worth the trouble?” 

Kizlet laughed, “he’s fully integrated, there’s nothing the Doctor can do now.” 

“I’m not sure that’s the case, ma’am,” he said hesitantly, pointing to the rapid security screenshots of the Doctor approaching on a motorcycle, “he’s on his way.” 

“This man clearly doesn’t know when he’s beat,” she growled.

“We could stop him, ma’am,” Mahler pointed out. 

“Why bother? It might be funny to watch him try.” 

They all watched as pictures flooded in of the Doctor zooming through London. She grabbed her iPad as the Doctor stopped in front of the Shard, anger evident in his posture. She quickly hacked into a pedestrian on the corner. 

“Really, Doctor?” She mused, “a motorbike? Doesn’t really seem your style.” 

“I rode this in the Anti-Grav Olympics in 2074,” he snarked, flipping up his visor. The visible rage on his face was enough to make Alexei squirm in his seat. 

“The building is in lockdown,” she stated, “I’m afraid you can’t come in.” 

The Doctor barked out a laugh and flipped his visit back down, “did you not hear the ‘anti-grav’ part?” 

With a rev of the bike, the Doctor shot straight towards the building and went right up the glass exterior. 

“Are you serious?” Alexei shouted, “he can do that? He can actually do that?” 

“Good lord,” she muttered under her breath. 

Moments later, they all flinched at the sound of shattering class. 

“Ma’am, I think that was your office,” Mahler cringed. 

“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me,” She straightened out her blazer, “I have a meeting to attend.” 

She grabbed her iPad and straightened her posture before striding down the hallway towards her office. When she pulled the double doors open, she was met with shards of glass scattered around the discarded motorcycle on the ground. The Doctor had kept his helmet on, but she could sense the fury behind the tinted visor, betraying his casual position of having his feet propped up on her desk as he slouched in her office chair. 

“I see you’ve made yourself right at home,” she huffed. 

“Download him.” 

“I apologize for the draft,” she said instead, gesturing to the shattered window, crunching some glass shards under her heel to make a point. 

“Download him back into his body, _right now,”_ the Doctor ordered, slamming his fist down onto her desk as he stood up. 

“I can’t do that,” she said with a smile. 

“Yes, you can. _You will.”_

“He’s a fully integrated part of the DataCloud now, he can’t be removed.” 

“Then download the entire fucking cloud, every single person that you’ve trapped in there.” The Doctor stalked up to her, still in his helmet. Despite his menacing presence, she stood her ground. 

“You realize what would happen if I did that, right?” She asked coolly.

“Of course I do, the people that still have bodies to return to would be freed. Like nothing ever happened to them.” The Doctor’s fists were clenched so tightly that Kizlet heard his knuckles crack under the pressure. 

“That is only a small percentage,” she smoothly slid past the Doctor to lean against her desk, “the rest would simply vanish. The cloud is the only thing keeping them alive. Are you sure you want to be responsible for thousands of deaths, Doctor?” 

“It won’t be the first time,” he said darkly, “it would be freeing them from a living hell. It would be showing them mercy. So give the order.” 

“Why would I do that?” She scoffed. 

“Because I’m about to give you some serious motivation.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” she laughed, “why did you even bother coming here?” 

“I didn’t.” 

“Excuse me?” 

\--

Mark shifted in his chair at the cafe as he furiously typed commands into the laptop with one hand, the other gently holding Ethan’s wrist, feeling the faint pulse under his fingers. The constant beat a reassurance to him. 

“I’m still at the cafe, never left actually. I was having such a nice time with, what did you call Ethan again? _My boy-toy_.” Mark took a sip of Ethan’s cold brew and scowled, “not that he’s even close to that, thank you very much.” 

“What are you talking about?” The woman hissed. 

“You hack people,” He said, trying for casual, but coming across bitter, “I’m old fashioned. I hack technology.” 

\--

Kizlet watched in horror as the Doctor took off his helmet and dropped it to the floor, his head slowly spinning around. 

“No!” She shouted, stumbling away from the base-station. “Not me! Stop this! No!” 

“Here’s your motivation!” She heard the Doctor laugh as her vision went black. 

\-- 

“Mahler!” Alexei gasped, slapping the older man in the arm, “Mahler, I don’t believe it, it’s Ms. Kizlet!” 

Mahler looked up and gasped in shock. Kizlet’s face was the lone face of rage amongst the panic and confusion. 

“Jesus Christ,” both men looked at each other, unsure of what to do. 

“Put me back!” She screeched, “right this instant! Download me! That’s an order!” 

“She’s fully integrated into the cloud,” Alexei said nervously, ”we’d have to download the entire cloud, we can’t do that.” 

“No,” Mahler cleared his throat, “ no, we can’t.” 

\--

Mark looked at the laptop screen with a sense of satisfaction. The two men were unaware that he was watching them through the webcam. He switched over to controlling the base-station, commanding it to pick up the discarded iPad. It opened up on the most recently used employee profile. With a few clicks, the base-station dragged the obedience bar all the way up. 

\--

“Download me, this instant!” Kizlet cried out, looking hysteric. 

“Do what she said, Alexei,” Mahler commanded, “right now.” 

“A-are you sure, sir?” Alexei questioned, confused at the sudden shift in Mahler, “the cloud-” 

“That’s an order, Alexei!” 

Alexei quickly typed in the download command and they all watched as the wall of faces went black. 

“Everybody freeze!” A female voice suddenly commanded, “this building is under UNIT’s control!” 

A high pitched screech blared through the office space and every employee grasped their ears in pain. 

“What’s going on?” Mahler commanded, his ears ringing as he looked around at the room of unfamiliar faces. “I’ve never heard of UNIT!” 

“Sir, you need to calm down,” the woman said, “we’re here to help.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“Are you soldiers?” 

“How did I get here?” 

Mahler rubbed his temples as confusion took over him. “How long have I been here? I don’t know where I am.” 

\-- 

Kizlet watched the UNIT officers storm the office, her face pressed against the barely open slit in the door. She had bought herself some more time releasing everyone, but not much. She quietly closed the door and turned to face the monitor, showing the angry face of her superior. 

“UNIT is here,” she said meekly, “friends of the Doctor, I assume?” 

“Yes. Very old friends.” 

“Then I have failed you, Doctor Simeon,” she bowed her head, “I’m sorry.” 

“I have feasted on many minds, the Great Intelligence has grown.” The pixelated face said monotone, “but now, I’m afraid it is time I relieve you of your duties.” 

“You’ve been whispering in my ear for so long,” she said mournfully, “I’m not sure I remember what I was before.” 

“Goodbye, Ms. Kizlet,” Simeon said, the monitor going black. 

Kizlet slowly walked over to her desk, past the decommissioned base-station and grabbed her iPad. She swiped until she found her own employee page and pressed, “restore to factory settings.” The iPad falling out of her hands and crashing to the floor. 

“Stay where you are! Put your hands in the air!” A blond woman ordered, “Identify yourself!” 

“Where is mummy and daddy?” Kizlet said in a young sounding voice, “they’ve been gone for so long, are they coming back?” 

\--

Mark crouched down next to Ethan as he slowly started to wake up. Mark gently scratched at the short hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“Mark?” He murmured weakly, his eyes fluttering. 

“Hey, I’m right here,” He said, placing his other hand on Ethan’s knee, “everything’s ok.” 

Ethan hummed and made a satisfied sound as Mark scratched a little harder. 

“I can take you home now, I’ve fixed everything.” 

Ethan gave him a dopey smile, “of course you did.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Ethan peered at him through his eyelashes, causing Mark to swallow involuntarily at how soft Ethan looked. “I’ve only known you for like a day and you boast about everything you do.”

“That’s not true,” he said, faking offense. “How dare you, I would never!” 

The sound of Ethan giggling was like music to his ears, he couldn’t help but smile at the sound. 

“C’mon, Chuckles,” he said quietly, “let’s get you home.” 

Ethan nodded his head and sat up, stretching his arms over his head. 

“Where’s my helmet?” He asked, looking around. 

“Oh, about that,” Mark started, “the bike’s out of commission, so it looks like we’re walking back to the TARDIS.” 

Ethan didn’t even bother to question him, just shook his head in disbelief, “of course it is.” 

\--

Ethan sighed in relief as they were safely back inside the TARDIS. Mark making a beeline for the console. “Portland, Maine, here we come.” 

“Is it always this dangerous, traveling with you?” He asked, leaning up against the console. 

Mark’s hands stilled on the controls and he glanced over at him, “yes, it is.” 

“I’ve only just met you, Mark,” he said with a sigh, “and I’ve already almost died like three times.” 

He placed his hand on Mark’s, his stomach falling at the sadness in Mark’s face, like he already knew what he was going to say. “I had an incredible time. I truly did. But I have a life here, in Maine. I have a job and obligations that I can’t just leave to travel the universe with you. I hope you understand.” 

Mark’s mouth was pressed in a fine line as he nodded. “The thing about a time machine, is that you can run away for as long as you want and come back like you never left.” 

Mark cautiously stepped forward until their foreheads touched, “give it a chance?” He murmured, “you and me, all of time and space. I bet those pictures would look great in your portfolio.” 

Ethan met Mark’s eyes, they were full of hope and loneliness. As much as his brain was telling him this was a bad idea, his gut told him otherwise. 

“Is this what you do?” He asked, teasing slightly, “you just throw out the, ‘all of time and space’ line and people jump into this box and fly away with you?” 

Mark smiled, huffing out a quiet laugh, “not really.” 

Ethan took a step back, a smile on his face, “come back tomorrow. Ask me again.” 

His heart hammered in his chest as Mark looked at him with renewed confidence. 

“Why tomorrow?” 

Ethan skipped towards the doors to the TARDIS and looked over his shoulder at Mark, “because I might say yes. Come after five, I should be done tomorrow’s shoot and the twins should be home by then.” 

“This is a time-machine, Ethan,” Mark reminded him, “any time works for me, I can press a button and make it five.” 

“But you’re not gonna do that, are you?” Ethan challenged, “you’re gonna take the long way around, ok?” 

Mark shook his head fondly, “only for you.” 

Ethan grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. The cloudy Maine sky, a familiar sight. 

“Ethan!” Mark called, “in your book, there was a leaf, why?” 

“That wasn’t a leaf,” he said over his shoulder, “that was page one.” 

  
  
  



	7. I'll Follow You Anywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spoiler* 
> 
> There's some Russian in this chapter, so there's gonna be translations at the end. They're straight off of google, so sorry if they're a little off.

**Unknown.**

After spending the better part of a millennium traveling across the universe at the snap of his fingers, Mark had become accustomed to the luxury. So to say that taking the long way to tomorrow was actually killing him wasn’t an understatement. But he promised Ethan, and Mark already knew he would go to the ends of the universe for every incarnation of Ethan Nestor he met. 

The TARDIS groaned as he walked circles around the centre console, as if it could tell how impatient he was getting. 

“I can’t even go anywhere while I wait,” he said to the TARDIS, “something would happen and I would be late. And I can’t lie to Ethan and fix things to show up on time, because he’ll know.” 

He interpreted the groan he received back as one of sympathy for his dilemma and slumped against the railing, Ethan’s blankets providing a cushion from the hard metal. 

Mark had completely forgotten to give them back. He reached behind him and grabbed one of the blankets. The well-washed, nearly see through image of a red car with a face stared back at him. He studied the blanket for a little while, the signs of wear and tear were evident in the small stains and loose threads. The small sewn in white patch in the corner with Ethan’s name on it was coming loose as well. It was clear to Mark that this was something that Ethan had owned for a long time and his hearts skipped a beat at being able to see and hold something that connected to Ethan’s childhood. 

The thought of being able to see into Ethan’s life made his palms sweaty. He hadn’t really thought of what he would do if Ethan said yes to traveling with him. 

_When._

When Ethan said yes, he reminded himself. 

He carefully folded the blanket back up and hung it over the railing with the other, equally as worn blanket before he finally came to the conclusion that he needed to start cleaning the TARDIS. 

He started with his own bedroom, picking up the piles of clothes he had let accumulate during his depressive period. He sorted through his modern clothes and his Victorian ones, placing them in the correct bins to be washed and put away. He then made his bed for the first time in what felt like centuries, even going as far as to put on a fresh pair of sheets. 

He told himself as he entered his bathroom that he was doing it to present the best image of himself to Ethan. The short period of time that he had been in Ethan’s house, the one thing that stood out the most was the cleanliness of the place. Even the mess of camera equipment in his bedroom had been organized. He didn’t want his messiness to turn Ethan away. 

At the thought of Ethan, Mark froze. He had no clue how this Ethan felt about him. He knew that Victorian Ethan had liked him, that had been well-established. But Ethan in 2020 was a totally different human being and would require his own space. Mark felt like an idiot for thinking that Ethan would just move into his room with him, no questions asked. 

Mark wondered what it would be like to receive this Ethan’s love. Victorian Ethan’s love had been passionate and spontaneous. He had put himself on the line for a man he had only just met in a time period that prided itself on piety and uniformity. That Ethan had acted with his heart, risking not only his safety, but his freedom as well; had Mark not reciprocated his feelings. 

With a deep breath, Mark shook the images of vibrant hazel eyes and the sounds of exhilarated laughter from his mind. He left his mostly cleaned bathroom and stood in the doorway to his room, dreading what was next. 

He stared at the two closed doors across the hallway from him. They hadn’t been opened in a long time, he had personally made sure of it. But he couldn’t avoid it anymore. Ethan was going to need a place to sleep, a space that was purely his. The real question was whose room was Mark going to brave first; Bob’s or Wade’s?

Mark had only been in their rooms twice since he had lost them to the Weeping Angels. The first was the night that it had happened. He had drunk himself into such a state that he had stumbled into Bob’s room, sobbing so hard he could hardly breath as he collapsed onto Bob’s unmade bed. Then going to do the same in Wade’s room. That sorrow had been short-lived, it had quickly turned into rage. Rage at Bob and Wade for not being careful enough. Then rage at himself for not protecting them. 

The second and final time had been the next day, after he forbade himself from alcohol. He had looked around each room one last time, before closing the doors and locking them with his sonic. Over the years, Mark had gone through the process of grieving over his companions countless times. But losing Bob and Wade felt like he had lost a part of himself. 

Mark finally snapped out of his misery, not willing to wallow in the loss of his best friends any longer and approached the door to Bob’s room. The sound of his sonic unlocking the door almost made him flinch. But he powered through it and pushed the door open.

The small of stale air hit him first as he cautiously entered the room, flicking the lights on. Everything was the same as it was the last time Mark was in here. The only difference being the thick layer of dust that covered everything. 

Mark’s methodical with everything. He took Bob’s belongings and sorted them into two piles: what he’s going to keep and what he’s going to get rid of. He ended up keeping the faded photos of the three of them and a few nicknacks that he knew were important to Bob. He did the same with Wade’s room and made quick work of getting rid of the dust and misery that filled each room. 

By the time he was finished, Mark was exhausted. He flopped back on his bed, knowing he would need to take a shower before seeing Ethan. A quick check of his watch told him he still had a little less than two hours until five. 

He’s never taking the long way, ever again. 

He pushed himself up and decided he better shower, knowing that sitting around wouldn’t make time go faster. 

After cleaning himself up and getting dressed, Mark drummed his fingers on the console before caving into the itch that had been bugging him for days. 

He yanked down one of the monitors mounted to the console and typed in Ethan’s name. The TARDIS pulled every piece of information it could find about him. He skimmed through the results, finding everything from Ethan’s social media pages, to his business website and even his birth announcement in the _Portland Press Herald._ Mark ignored the voice in his head telling him he was being creepy and kept scrolling. He was just doing his due diligence. 

Mark cocked an eyebrow at seeing Ethan’s name in the results for gymnastic competitions, quickly finding very pixelated, shaky footage of a young Ethan swinging on bars and doing flips. Next he found Ethan’s Instagram, finding it full of his friends, gorgeous landscapes and a few behind the scenes videos from shoots. This Ethan was a hard worker, that much is obvious from his Twitter. He often talked about staying up late for shoots or to watch the twins. It’s admirable. But Mark was left just as confused as he was when he started, because this Ethan was clearly human. 

He doesn’t understand how Ethan has appeared in his life, four separate times now. He cannot rationalize it in his brain. 

It’s impossible. Ethan’s impossible. 

The TARDIS groaned, causing him to look away from more videos of an older Ethan, clearly drunk, doing a backflip for his friends. He ignored it and went back to the video, knowing the TARDIS just made noises sometimes. Mark laughed at the way they all hyped him up when he landed on his feet before being passed a drink to shotgun. 

Suddenly the TARDIS started taking off and Mark grabbed the console in surprise, frantically looking at other monitors to find out what was happening.

“Where are we going?” He shouted. 

The TARDIS landed with a wheeze and Mark quickly went to work, trying to get back to where he was. “This isn’t funny,” he told the TARDIS, “you know I have somewhere to be soon and Ethan will know if I cheated.” 

The TARDIS wheezed at him and the lights flashed, directing him to the doors that flung themselves open. Mark glared up at the ceiling, “this better be important.” 

He stuck his head out of the doors and frowned at the chilly air and brightly coloured leaves. Mark looked around, the TARDIS had taken him to a random street, in what he guessed was the early 90s, based on the cars he saw drive by. He was just about to head back inside, no obvious signs of his presence being needed until a vaguely familiar, confused young man walked by, trying to navigate himself with a map. 

Mark leaned against the doorframe of the TARDIS as the man continued down the street, the wind trying to blow the map out of his hands. He couldn’t understand why the TARDIS had brought him here. There was no danger, just a guy who didn’t know how to use a map. 

Said man ended up in the middle of the road, a large red maple leaf covering his face, completely blinding him to the oncoming traffic. Before Mark could shout to warn the man, a woman quickly appeared to pull him out of harm's way. 

“Was that why you brought us here?” He complained as he yelled back inside, “to save some guy who can’t look both ways when he crosses the road?” 

The doors snapped closed, almost catching Mark in the process and the TARDIS started taking off again. Clearly the TARDIS was trying to show him something, Mark just didn’t know what. 

The doors open up, on the same street, but instead of windy and cloudy skies, Mark is met with darkness and rain. 

In the dim light of the streetlights, Mark caught the silhouettes of two people, crammed together under an umbrella. Their laughter carried through the rain and Mark raised an eyebrow when he realized it was the same man and woman from earlier. He frowned in confusion when they stopped at the same spot the man had almost gotten hit by a car and he can see the bright red leaf that the man pulled out of his coat, presenting it to the woman as a gift. 

The doors close once again and Mark started to get frustrated, “can we quit fucking around? Show me what you want to show me.” 

The next time they land, it’s a cemetery and a funeral is taking place. Mark carefully left the TARDIS trying to avoid the stares of the mourners. As he scanned the small crowd of faces, he found the slightly older, demure faces of the man and woman the TARDIS had been showing him. He almost tripped over a headstone when he saw Ethan standing next to them. He was younger and skinnier than he was now and had a head of faded blue hair. His face was blotchy and Mark could feel his grief from where he was standing. The man placed his hand on Ethan’s shoulder and that was when Mark had to turn back to the TARDIS. He felt too uncomfortable spying on Ethan. His grief was none of Mark’s business. 

As soon as he got back inside the TARDIS he leaned against the closed doors, trying to process everything the TARDIS had shown him. 

“So you took me to see Ethan’s parents. Why?” He asked as he approached the center console with his arms crossed. He thought about it to himself as he fiddled with the controls, taking himself to Ethan’s, the long way be damned. 

**Portland, Maine, 2020.**

Ethan waved goodbye to the twins and Mr. Burback before he closed the door. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that he only had a half hour before Mark was supposed to arrive. A shiver of anticipation went down his spine as he hurried to his bedroom, his suitcase already open on his bed. 

Of course he was going to say yes to Mark. How could he not?

He quickly made work of putting together a camera bag, full of different lenses, a few different cameras and tripods and lugged it into his living room. 

Packing his clothes was a much harder task. He didn’t really know what he was packing for. He supposed that he could always come home for more clothes, but he just wanted to make sure he didn’t forget anything. 

By the time he had everything ready, it was 4:55 and Ethan couldn’t even focus on his phone. He kept staring at the door, hoping that Mark would show up sooner. 

He vaulted over the couch at the sound of the TARDIS wheezing and yanked the door open, Mark standing on the other side with his hand up ready to knock. 

“Hi,” he said breathless, “come in.” 

“Someone’s excited to see me,” Mark smirked, toeing off his shoes at the door. “How was your day?” 

Ethan closed the door behind them and felt his heartbeat pick up anxiously as he saw Mark stare at his suitcases. “It was good,” he managed to stammer, “I did graduation photos today for a group of friends from the University of Maine. We went down to the beach, took a few serious photos for their parents in front of a lighthouse and then took some fun ones. Pretty good day overall.” 

Mark leaned against the couch, a confident smile on his face, “that’s good to hear. Do you need help putting your equipment away?” he gestured to Ethan’s suitcases. 

He felt his face go red as he shook his head, “um, actually that’s - I was - those are -” 

Mark’s laughter cut him off and he felt his face burn. 

“I’m only kidding,” Mark said, his eyes bright, “I know what it’s for. At least I hope I do.” 

Ethan couldn’t help but stare at his socked feet as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I mean, I don’t want to assume, but if you’re still offering…” He trailed off and glanced up at Mark, who had the biggest smile on his face. 

“So you’re saying yes?” Mark asked with so much hope and excitement in his voice that even if Ethan didn’t want to go, he would say yes.

“I’ve already packed, you idiot, of course I’m saying yes! On one condition.” 

“Anything.” 

“I still have commitments that I need to do here. I need to come home for shoots or when I need to watch Eddy and Tony.” 

Mark laughed, “of course, idiot. I’m not kidnapping you. You’re free to come and go as you please. Just say the word and I’ll bring you home.” 

Ethan felt a smile creep onto his face, “well then what are we waiting for?” 

He grabbed the suitcase full of his clothes and handed it to Mark so he could take the one full of his cameras. “Lead the way, Doctor!” 

Ethan felt like he was floating as Mark led the way outside, pausing so Ethan could lock his door. 

With a snap of his fingers, the TARDIS doors opened for Mark and he ushered Ethan inside, the doors closing behind him. 

“You’re showing me how to do that,” he said, looking around at the inside of the TARDIS. Trying to memorize every detail. 

“We’ll see about that,” Mark chuckled, “I’ll show you your room.” 

Mark led him out of the console room and through what felt like a maze of hallways. Ethan knew he would end up getting lost more than once. 

“How big is the TARDIS?” He asked as they rounded another corner. 

“Haven’t got a clue,” Mark laughed, “I’ve been traveling in it for more than a thousand years and I doubt I’ve seen everything. There’s always new rooms popping up.” 

“Oh shit.” 

“So here’s the closet,” Mark gestured to a large set of double doors, “it’s full of clothes from different periods. It’s where I got my monk outfit from. I also have a lot of friends in Victorian England, so there’s a lot of nineteenth-century stuff in there.” 

“Are they like you?” He asked. 

“One of a kind? Absolutely.”

“No you idiot,” Ethan laughed, “I mean are they like, aliens or whatever?” 

Mark waved his hand flippantly, “kinda yes, kinda no. Too smart to be human, too human to be aliens.” 

Ethan cocked an eyebrow in confusion, “‘too smart to be human, but too human to be alien’? What does that mean?” 

Mark made a non-commital noise and started directing him again, “so the kitchen is right here. It’s got pretty much anything you could ever want.” 

“There’s a kitchen?” He perked up, “I don’t mean to brag but I’m pretty good at cooking.” 

“Perfect, I hereby promote you to Head Chef of the TARDIS,” Mark joked. 

“As long as you don’t mind a whole bunch of failed souffles,” he quipped back. 

Mark made a choking sound and dropped Ethan’s suitcase.

He rushed up to him and started firmly patting him on the back, “are you ok?” 

“Yeah,” Mark stammered, his face carefully expressionless, “souffles?” 

Ethan frowned, “yeah, it’s my mom’s recipe. Why do you keep looking at me like that?” 

“Like what?” Mark said quickly.

“Like you’ve seen a ghost. You did it yesterday and you’re doing it now.” 

Mark’s eyes scanned his face and Ethan heard him swallow, “you remind me of someone I lost,” he said carefully. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, slightly uncomfortable, “if I’m here because you see the remnants of that person in me, I’m not sure I want to be here. Don’t get me wrong, I want to travel with you, but if you’ve brought me here as a replacement, I can’t do that.” 

Mark’s eyes widened and he firmly grasped Ethan by the shoulders, “don’t,” he stressed, “don’t you ever think that you’re a replacement. You’re here because I want you here. Not because you remind me of someone, but because of who you are. I want Ethan Nestor.” 

Ethan nodded and felt trapped in Mark’s eyes. He couldn’t look away. The intensity and mild concern of Mark’s stare was impossible to look away from. 

“Ok?” Mark said quietly. 

“Promise?” 

Mark gave him a soft, “promise.” 

“Then take me to my room, Doctor.” 

Mark broke their staring contest and picked Ethan’s suitcase back up, “not much farther now.” 

Ethan’s led slightly farther down the hallway until they stopped between two doors on opposite sides of the hallway, another door not too far away. 

“So this is my room,” Mark pointed to the door on the right, “and this one is yours.” 

Mark pushed the left door open and turned on the lights, Ethan close behind. He took in the room. It’s a good size, probably a little bigger than his one at home. The walls are a neutral grey. The bed is large and Ethan can see a door leading to an ensuite and another one for what he assumed was a closet. 

“It’s pretty basic right now,” Mark said, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I’ve learned over the years that people like to make their spaces their own, so.” 

“It’s great,” he replied, sitting down on the bed, “there’s more room here for my camera equipment than at home.” 

“Oh!” Mark gestured for him to follow him, “I have a surprise for you, bring your camera bag.” 

Ethan raised an eyebrow in confusion and did as he was told, following Mark back into the hallway and to the door next to his room. 

“I thought you might want a dedicated space for your equipment,” Mark said bashfully as he opened the door to the room. 

Ethan poked his head inside and found that the room was the same as his, only mirrored. 

He didn’t know what to say. He had only just met Mark and this was easily one of the nicest things anyone had done for him. He felt his lip quiver and swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“Ethan?” Mark asked, cautious. 

Instead of responding, he spun around and wrapped his arms around Mark’s middle, causing the alien to freeze in surprise. His arms hovered for a second before coming to wrap around Ethan, squeezing tightly. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled into Mark’s shoulder, “you didn’t have to do that.” 

“I just want this place to feel like home, and I figured that would help. Anything I can do to make this place better for you, I’ll do it.”

Ethan doesn’t know if he’s imagining it or not, but he swore he felt the warm breath of Mark’s mouth on the top of his head for a split second before Mark started to let go. 

“Have you decided where we’re going to go first?” He asked with a cheery smile. 

Ethan’s eyes widened in surprise, “me? You’re letting me pick where we go?” 

Mark laughed and looked at him with warm eyes, “of course, we can go anywhere in time and space.” 

He thought about it for a second, “anywhere?” 

Mark nodded an amused expression on his face, “anywhere. Well, anywhere within reason.” 

“Take me somewhere incredible,” he said, thinking off the top of his head as he grabbed one of his cameras, “let’s break in this new studio with a bang.” 

“Somewhere incredible,” Mark echoed, his eyes bright, “I’m sure the TARDIS knows just the place.” He started to leave the room and gestured for Ethan to follow him, “c’mon, let’s go somewhere incredible.” 

Mark expertly weaved his way through the labyrinth of hallways in the TARDIS and Ethan had a hard time keeping up, between trying to memorize where he was going and feeling the urge to look into every room they passed, he almost lost Mark more than once. But eventually they did pop back into the main console room and Ethan couldn’t help but admire Mark as he confidently maneuvered around the console, pressing buttons and flipping switches. 

“Got anywhere in mind?” He asked, cautiously approaching, not wanting to get in Mark’s way. 

“I’m letting the TARDIS pick,” Mark said with a glint in his eyes. “If you want somewhere that’s photo worthy, it’ll know just the place.” 

“How can you be so sure? Is it like, alive?” 

“I’ve travelled with this TARDIS ever since the day I started running, it knows me better than anyone.” 

Ethan took a step closer out of curiosity, “why’d you start running?”

Mark’s hands stilled over the controls for a brief second and he cleared his throat. Ethan swore he saw the familiar far away look on Mark’s face for a moment before it was gone in the blink of an eye. 

“I wasn’t happy,” Mark started, “I needed to get away from Gallifrey. I wouldn’t be satisfied with my life or the things I’d done if I stayed there. I needed to do something, make myself useful. That wasn’t going to happen at home. So I left. Stole the TARDIS and I’ve been running ever since.” 

Silence fell between the two of them, the only sounds coming from the TARDIS. Ethan didn’t know what to say. 

“So!” Mark clapped his hands to break the silence, “let’s see where the TARDIS takes us.” 

He gestured for Ethan to stand in front of him, right in front of a large lever. “Just pull this whenever you’re ready.” 

Ethan looked at Mark in surprise, “me?” 

“Yes, you.” Mark reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him into his space. “There’s nothing to worry about. The TARDIS doesn’t bite.” 

Ethan nervously turned his head to the side to look at Mark, who gave him a reassuring smile. The close proximity and warmth radiating off him made Ethan’s heart rate pick up slightly. He told himself it was because he was about to fly a spaceship. 

“So I just -” he reached out with his sweaty hand and gripped the lever, looking around to see if the TARDIS would react negatively. When no alarm bells or lights flickered he took in a deep breath and pulled down. 

The familiar wheeze started and Mark was right there to steady him with a hand on his back, as the TARDIS started to take off. 

“See that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He teased, his hand lingering. 

“Shut up,” he chirped back, stepping out of Mark’s space, immediately missing the heat of Mark’s body. “I’ve never flown a spaceship before.” 

“I could show you,” Mark offered, “if you want to, that is.” 

“You would let me fly the most dangerous spaceship in the universe?” He asked, his eyebrows raised into his hairline with doubt. “Seriously?” 

Mark shrugged, “I don’t see why not. Unless the TARDIS doesn’t want you to, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” 

They landed with a groan and Ethan stumbled a little bit, still not used to landing. His head whipped towards the doors and then back to Mark, his eyes wide. “Where are we?” 

“Let’s find out,” Mark said with a laugh. He strode past him and cracked one of the doors open, red light streaming in. “Oh you’re gonna love this.” 

Ethan swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and adjusted the camera in his hands, “oh yeah?” 

“Absolutely.” 

Mark poked his head back inside and held out his hand, “c’mon.” 

He cautiously reached out and grabbed Mark’s hand, hoping the alien wouldn’t notice how clammy it was. 

“Close your eyes,” Mark murmured, “I want this to be something you never forget.” 

“Oh trust me, I think I won’t ever forget this.” Ethan complied and closed his eyes. 

“Don’t open them until I tell you.” Mark tugged at his hand and Ethan blindly followed, trusting that Mark wouldn’t lead him astray. 

Ethan heard the creak of the doors open and he saw red behind his eyelids. He involuntarily squeezed Mark’s hand and they stopped. 

“Do you trust me?” Mark questioned. 

“Yes.” Ethan responded immediately. 

“Watch the step.” 

Ethan cautiously stepped down and heard the crunch of gravel under his shoes. He was minorly surprised that he was still able to breathe, but after everything that’s happened lately, he chose to ignore it. 

Mark abruptly let go of his hand, but before he could panic, there’s a steady hand between his shoulder blades and another on his bicep, “are you ready?” 

“No,” he blurted out, suddenly slightly panicked. “Yes. I don’t know.” 

“It’s alright.” The low rumble of Mark’s voice by his ear sent shivers down his spine. “It’s a lot to take in. Whenever you’re ready.” 

With a deep breath, his eyes flutter open. Ethan gasped as his eyes tried to take in everything. He automatically reached back and his fingers gripped Mark’s shirt tightly. 

_“Mark!”_

“Welcome to the Rings of Akhaten, Ethan.” 

They were in an asteroid belt. Millions of asteroids orbited around a giant red and orange sun in silence. It was nothing like what the movies made space out to be. It was surprisingly calm and serene, just staring out into the vastness of space. He watched as two large asteroids collided together in silence. Ethan felt the phantom vibrations of the impact go down his spine, but never the violent sounds of the crash. The colours were so vivid and bright that Ethan had to look away. His eyes flickered around at the vast amount of stars and moons that he could see. He couldn’t believe it. 

“Let me take your picture,” he told Mark. 

“What? Why?” 

Ethan spun around, fumbling to turn his camera on. “Because I said, go stand over there.” 

Mark huffed out a small laugh and let Ethan direct him around. 

“Hold still. It’s easier to take pictures of toddlers than of you!” 

Mark squawked in protest but quickly resumed his positioning as Ethan gave him a heatless glare. 

“3… 2… 1…” 

The rapid click of the shutter was dulled by the silence and Ethan glanced down at the tiny LCD screen. 

Mark was standing with his hands behind his back and his foot propped up on a rock. The asteroid belt and sun were perfectly framed behind him. But what caught Ethan’s eyes the most was the expression on Mark’s face. He was expecting a goofy face or something exaggerated. Instead he saw the warmth in Mark’s eyes, coupled with a small, closed-mouth smile. It was the softest he had ever seen Mark. 

He didn’t realize that he had been staring until Mark’s hand was on his shoulder, “am I really that ugly?” 

Ethan’s head shot up, his cheeks burning, “no-not at all!” 

The cocky smirk that Ethan was becoming used to was back in an instant, “you can say it. I know I’m handsomer than sin.” 

“Shut up, idiot.” He shot back, feeling the heat in his face disappear. “I was looking at the background, not the moron in the foreground.” 

“Sure, tell yourself that.”

He ignored Mark and dug in his pocket for his phone. “Take one of me please?” 

Mark looked at him confused, “you want me to take a picture with your phone when you have an expensive, professional camera right there?” 

Ethan waved him off, “it’s just so I can flex on the twins.”

_“Flex on the twins?”_

Ethan handed Mark his phone and went to the edge of the asteroid where Mark had been standing. “Yeah, like brag, show off. Show them their babysitter is the best.” 

Mark smirked at him and held his phone up, “whatever you say.” 

Ethan spread his arms wide and smiled as the excitement of where they were finally caught up with him. Mark took a few pictures before he glanced down at his watch. “Oh shit.” 

He hurried over to Ethan and held his phone up, like they were going to take a selfie. “Wait until you see this.” 

Ethan squinted at the phone screen as Mark kept adjusting the way the two of them were in frame. “Wait for what?” 

Ethan watched through the phone as a large asteroid rotated past, revealing a large golden pyramid on top of an asteroid, a large city orbiting close behind. He barely remembered to smile for Mark before his head was whipping around to stare directly at the pyramid. 

“What is that?” 

Mark handed him back his phone, “it’s the Pyramid of the Rings of Akhaten. It’s a holy sight for the Sun-singers of Akhet. It’s seven worlds that orbit this star and all believe that life originates from that pyramid.” 

“Is that true?” 

Ethan glanced at Mark who shrugged, “that’s what they believe. It’s a nice story at least.” 

“Can we go there?” He asked, looking back to the pyramid, quickly taking a few pictures with his camera.

“You already know the answer.” 

With a snap of his fingers, the TARDIS doors opened for Mark and Ethan gave him a bright smile before he hurried back inside. 

\--

“Holy fuck!” 

Ethan gasped as he followed Mark outside the TARDIS into a market crowded with aliens. 

“Ethan, you’re staring.” Mark murmured, nudging his side as he nodded politely to the alien with a fish face for a head. 

“Can you blame me?” He muttered back, trying to keep his eyes down. 

Mark started making his way through the crowded market, making small talk with aliens in languages Ethan didn’t recognize. It seemed like everyone here knew about Mark, or knew about the Doctor at least. 

Not wanting to get lost, he hurried after Mark and grabbed his hand, clinging on tightly. They made their way through the market, stopping occasionally at random stalls to look over whatever the vendor was selling. Mark always talking in a different language, leaving Ethan no option but to smile politely. 

There was one stall that caught his eye as they passed. It was smaller than most and was run by an elderly humanoid alien. The stall was full of small trinkets and Ethan immediately zoned in on the small stone gargoyle. He watched in amazement as the tiny figurine’s wings flapped as it crouched on its heels on the quartz pedestal it stood on before wrapping its arms around its knees. It repeated the motion and Ethan was immediately enraptured with the tiny creature. 

“Mark wait.” He let go of Mark’s hand and headed directly to the little gargoyle. 

The vendor bowed their head as he approached and mumbled something in another language. Ethan smiled at the alien and crouched down so he was eye level with the figurine. It carried on with repeating its movements as Ethan gazed at it in wonder. He swore the gargoyle flapped its wings with a little more excitement, like it knew it was being watched. 

Ethan didn’t need to look up when a hand was placed on his shoulder. The warm baritone of Mark’s voice telling him all he needed to know. He half-listened to the conversation Mark was having with the vendor, knowing there was no way he would be able to decipher the language. 

He wished he had grabbed his camera to take pictures of it, but he had left it in the TARDIS. 

“Ethan?” 

His eyes flickered up to see Mark’s questioning face staring down at him. 

“Sorry what?” 

“Did you want to get that?” 

He quickly nodded his head before deflating at the realization that he had no way to pay for it. He had no clue how currency worked here. 

“I don’t have any money for it,” he told Mark, “like I have American money, but I doubt that would work here.” 

Mark’s mouth twitched into an amused smirk, “you’d be surprised, got any change?” 

Ethan stood up and dug around in his pocket to pull out a few quarters, frowning in confusion at the loud noise that came from the vendor. 

“The nickel in the change is incredibly valuable here. Not many places can access earth metals,” Mark explained, “I’m sure that’s more than enough to cover it.” 

Ethan handed the eager vendor his change and flinched as the figurine was all but thrown at him. He fumbled it in his hands and clutched it to his chest, the gargoyle’s movements frozen until Ethan held it up right. 

“Will you thank him for me?” Ethan asked Mark as he carefully held the quartz pedestal, unsure if the gargoyle was mounted to it. 

He assumed Mark thanked the vendor, but from the look of excitement on their face, he was unsure if they heard him. 

Mark ushered them away from the stall and back towards the direction they came. 

“Could you not understand what the vendor was saying?” Mark questioned. 

“Um no? How could I understand an alien language?” 

Mark glanced over at him and frowned, “the TARDIS should have translated it for you through its Translation Matrix. Interesting. I’ll have to look into that.” 

They walked in comfortable silence for a little while longer, Mark’s arm occasionally bumping into his when they squeezed through more populated areas of the market.

“Is it alive?” He questioned as the gargoyle flapped its wings again. 

“Of course not,” Mark replied coolly, “I wouldn’t let you near anything that resembled living stone.” 

“Why not?” 

Mark grimaced, a dark look flickering in his eyes, “you’d be surprised how dangerous it can be.” 

“What’s the worst thing that could happen? A boulder falls on me?” He joked. 

He frowned when Mark didn’t crack a smile. Instead he focused on the way that Mark’s jaw was clenched. “Mark?” 

“One of the first things that you learn while traveling the universe is that appearances can be deceiving. One of the most dangerous beings in the universe looks like living stone. I know first hand the devastation they cause.” 

Mark guided him around a large cluster of aliens surrounding what Ethan thought was a food stall selling some kind of glowing fruit. The TARDIS only a few stalls away. 

“So what you’re saying is that Benjamin is _not_ one of the most dangerous beings in the universe?” 

Mark glanced at him, curious, “Benjamin?” 

“My gargoyle.” 

Mark nodded his head in understanding and unlocked the TARDIS. “Benjamin is harmless. The most it could do is blow over a stack of papers. I’m pretty sure it’s a children’s toy, which is fitting.” 

“Hey!” 

\--

**North Pole, 1983.**

Ethan stumbled out of the TARDIS, salt water burning his eyes as he and Mark stumbled into a sinking submarine. “Mark, what the fuck, dude? This isn’t Vegas.” 

“No this is much worse,” he heard Mark yell as he fished out his sonic. “This is a sinking Soviet submarine. I fucking hate this. I hate the ocean.” 

“Как вы попали на борт?” One of the crewmen shouted at him over the chaos. 

Ethan was suddenly thrusted sideways as the submarine titled harshly to the left, sending him colliding into a control panel. 

“Ethan!” He heard Mark cry out as stars filled his vision. He spat out salt water and struggled to get up, the combination of alarm bells and the ringing in his ears deafening. 

He felt rough hands tug him up and he swatted them away, “don’t fucking touch me!” 

He staggered away from the crewmen and towards Mark, who was frantically arguing with the captain about the best way to level out the submarine. 

“You still have sideways momentum! Your propellers operate separately from the main turbine. We can’t stop going down, but you can maneuver laterally. Do it now!” Mark ordered, waving his sonic around. 

“сдерживать их!”

Hands fumbled over Ethan’s body and he was running out of adrenaline to keep fighting them off. They forced his arms behind his back and he watched more men attempt to do the same to Mark. 

“There’s a geographical anomaly to the starboard, it’s an underwater ridge!” Mark barked out, throwing one of the larger men off of him. 

“Откуда ты это знаешь?” The captain ordered. 

“Do you want to stop sinking or not?” Mark growled, trudging towards Ethan with two men still trying to restrain him. “Because I really don’t want this thing to go deeper. It’s your only chance, this thing will implode!” 

“Капитан?”

“Боковое усилие на все гребные винты правого борта!” 

“Капитан, вы действительно собираетесь подчиняться приказам этого человека?” 

“Боковая тяга сейчас!” 

With another large shift and a groan, the submarine titled and Ethan fell backwards onto the men who were restraining him. He felt a stab of pain shoot up each arm as he landed on them awkwardly before they were released. He rolled off them with a groan as the submarine stabled out, colliding with the ridge. 

Mark finally stumbled over to him and fell to his knees, his hair stuck to his face. “Fuck me. I hate this. I hate this so much. I’m gonna find a way to kill the TARDIS for bringing us here.” 

“Капитан, мы выровнялись на семьсот метров ниже уровня моря!” 

It was almost as if there was a collective sigh of relief from the crew as the submarine bottomed out, despite the blaring alarms and constant rain of salt water pouring down on them. 

“Похоже, мы обязаны вам жизнью,” the Captain grumbled as he approached Mark. “Искать их.” 

Ethan groaned as he was heaved up yet again and shoved against the wall, the same happening to Mark not too far away. 

“How’d we end up on a Russian submarine?” He questioned as he was poked and prodded. 

“Not a _Russian_ submarine _,_ it’s a _Soviet_ submarine.” 

“Yeah, whatever. If they understand English, why are they talking to you in Russian?” 

“What do you mean? Can you still not understand them?” 

“You’re speaking English and they’re speaking in Russian.” 

Mark swore under his breath, “I thought I fixed that. Hang on.” 

While the crewmate was patting down Mark’s legs, Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out his sonic, just barely managing to point it at him, causing him to flinch as his ears popped loudly, before a crewmate ripped it out of his hand. 

“Give that back!” Mark snapped, reaching out only to be shoved back aggressively. 

The crewmate examined the sonic with a confused look on his face before tossing it aside into the slowly rising water. 

“Are we going to be ok?”

“Well, you’re an American and I’m an alien with an American accent. We’re on a Soviet ship filled with nuclear weapons. During the Cold War. You tell me if we’re going to be ok.” 

Ethan swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“Captain, we did not attack your ship,” Mark insisted as the Captain crowded into his space, “there’s no use bullshitting, you saw us, we appeared out of thin air. Ethan and I are time travellers.” 

The Captain barked out a humourless laugh, “time travellers? What kind of capitalist propaganda is that?” 

Ethan’s eyes widened as the man responded in heavily accented English. 

“Please, there’s limited oxygen down here, let’s not waste it fighting over semantics.” 

“I’m sure I could save a few breaths by having the two of you shot!” The Captain sneered. 

“Oh please,” Mark scoffed, “the Soviet Union might be a world superpower, but you don’t even have enough guns and bullets for every member of your military! Why would you waste them on us?” 

The Captain snarled and grabbed Mark by the front of his shirt, “you dare insult the name of the Glorious Soviet Union?” 

A loud hiss from down the hallway had everyone in the cockpit freezing. 

“What was that?” The Captain demanded, shoving Mark aside. 

With the attention of the crew diverted, Ethan used the last of his strength and made a dash towards Mark, the heavy weight of his soaking clothes, and shin deep water made it feel like he had run a marathon. But as soon as he was close enough, he almost fell into Mark’s arms, as they wrapped around his shaking frame like a vice. 

“We’ll be alright,” Mark reassured quietly, “I’ll get us out of here, I always do.” 

The shouts of men could be heard as four crewmates ran into the cockpit, terrified looks on their faces, “monster, the mammoth in the ice! It was a monster!” 

Slow, thundering footsteps echoed into the cockpit and Mark let him go in order to peer down the hallway. 

Ethan creeped after him, grabbing onto the back of his soaked shirt to ground himself and peer around Mark’s body. 

He could make out a hulking humanoid figure, dressed in some kind of armour, stalking towards them. 

“Mark what is that?” 

“It’s an Ice Warrior.” Mark’s voice was full of amazement as he took a step forward. “They’re native to Mars. We go way back. Way, way back.” 

“A martian?” The captain said, incredulous, “you can’t be serious.” 

“I’m always serious,” Mark shot back. 

“Let’s kill it before it kills us!” One of the crewmen charged forward with a pistol in his hand. 

“Wait! Don’t shoot!” 

Mark stepped in front of the man in a defensive stance. 

The Ice Warrior raised it’s gauntlet hand and Ethan’s eyes widened in fear as he heard the gauntlet start to charge up. 

“Calm down. We all need to calm down!” Mark commanded, looking back between the crewmate and the Ice Warrior. 

“I understand, you’re confused, you’re disorientated. It’s completely understandable! You’ve been in the ice for who knows how long.” Mark cautiously stepped towards the Ice Warrior with his arms raised, showing the martian his empty hands. “No one here wants to hurt you. We’re all just a little scared. Please. Tell us your name?” 

“This thing has a name?” 

“Of course,” Mark snapped, “everyone has a name. You’re a Captain and I’m the Doctor. This is a soldier. He has a name and rank and you will show him the respect that he deserves.” 

“Skaldak,” the low voice of the Ice Warrior grumbled. 

Ethan panicked when saw the way Mark’s arms fell limp at his sides. He could see the way his shoulders shook slightly when he took in a breath. If Mark was scared, they were fucked. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“I am Grand Marshal Skaldak,” it repeated. 

“Oh my god,” Mark mumbled, breathless. 

They all flinched back as the Ice Warrior started convulsing. His limbs seized as his massive body fell to the floor in a heap. A lone crewmate standing behind the unconscious martian with a cattle prod. 

_“You fucking idiot!”_ Mark seethed. “ _You’ve just tied a noose around every neck on board!”_

“Do you know him?” Ethan asked, trying to suppress the fear building up in his chest. 

“This is the greatest hero the martian race has ever been able to produce,” Mark said lowly. “And because of that fucking moron, you need to lock him up. Now.” 

\--

Ethan shivered as he pulled the coarse blanket he had been given by a crewmate tighter around himself. 

Mark and the Captain were having a hushed conversation in the corner of the Captain’s quarters about what to do. 

“All you had to do was leave Skaldak alone. He would have forgotten about us and we would be fine. But he was attacked by one of the men on your vessel. You’ve declared war and you didn’t even know it.” 

The Captain dragged his hand over his face, cursing under his breath. “What are our options?” 

“We need to talk to him. Convince him that there is no need to attack and then find a way to get him home.” Mark said as he leaned against the Captain’s bookcase. 

“I’ll do it,” the Captain volunteered, “it was a member of my crew that did it, I shall take the blame.” 

“That’s very admirable of you, Captain. But you’re an enemy agent. A soldier can sense another soldier.” 

“Then it can’t be you either, Doctor. We’ll send your little friend here.” 

Ethan stiffened at the thought of having to be alone with the angry Ice Warrior. “Why me?” 

“Because you aren’t a soldier. You’re the only choice.” 

\--

Mark watched the staticky security feed on the tiny monitor in the control room. Ethan cautiously approached the Ice Warrior and adjusted the large headset over his ears. 

“Ethan can you hear me?” He couldn’t tell if the nausea he was feeling was because of his fear or the ocean surrounding him. 

Ethan gave him a thumbs up, “y-yeah.” 

Mark grimaced at the audible fear in Ethan’s voice. Despite travelling together for nearly six months, he had never gotten the two of them in such a dangerous situation. And he certainly had never let Ethan face any danger alone. But they were left with no choice. Mark could feel the looming presence of the Captain over his shoulder and he knew that he needed to get everyone out of this situation. 

“Grand Marshall Skaldak!” Ethan called out. 

“Remember the salute,” Mark reminded gently. 

Ethan nodded his head and he balled his right hand into a fist and quickly pressed it against his left collarbone. 

“Good. Now, like we rehearsed; _Sovereign of the Tharseesian Caste, by the Moons, I honour thee.”_

Mark listened as Ethan repeated the phrase. “Good, it’s ok to approach him now.” 

Ethan took a hesitant step forward, “Grand Marshal. We are sorry, you were not shown the respect that you deserve.” 

The lights in the submarine flickered off, but the squeak Ethan let out confirmed that the connection between the two of them was still intact. 

“It’s ok Ethan, keep going.” 

“Mark, I’m scared,” Ethan whined. 

“I know, you’re almost done, and then you can come back here. Keep going.” 

“Grand Marshal, you are far from home,” Ethan continued, “and you’re five-thousand years lost in time. Please, let us help you, we are not your enemy.” 

_“And yet, I am in chains.”_ Mark heard the Ice Warrior hiss. 

“Mark, what do I say?” 

_“Yes, Mark, or Doctor. Whatever you call yourself, what should he say?”_

“I think he wants to speak to you, Doctor.” The Captain said, humourlessly.

Mark rubbed at his eyes in agitation before pushing his hair out of his face. “You’re in chains until we can trust each other, Skaldak. If the positions were switched, we both know I would be in chains as well.” 

_“My daughter once stood by me. It was her first taste of battle. We sang the songs of the Old Times. Five thousand years! My daughter is dust!”_

Mark shook his head and balled his hands in his hair, “no, no. Your people are still alive! They’re scattered across the universe. Mars will rise again, I promise you. Just let me help you.” 

_“I require no help. There will be no help.”_

He slouched back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest in frustration. This wasn’t going as smoothly as he had planned. 

“Mark?” Ethan’s staticky voice came over the comms. 

“What is it, Ethan? Are you ok?” 

“Mark, something’s wrong.” 

Immediately he shot back up, one hand tightly gripping the microphone, fear coursing through his body, _“what do you mean?”_

He heard Ethan shout in fright before his panicked voice answered, “he’s not there, it’s gone. The armour opened and there’s nothing in it.” 

_“It is time to study my enemies, and when the time is right, I will retaliate.”_

Mark could hear Ethan’s panicked breathing and he froze as he realized he had never heard of an Ice Warrior leaving their armour. 

“No! No Skaldak, let’s not do this.” 

_“Harm one of us, and you harm all of us. By the Moons, this I swear.”_

“Run! For the love of god, Ethan, _run!”_

Mark shoved his chair aside and dashed out of the control room, the Captain following swiftly behind.

“Ethan!” He shouted, sprinting as fast as he could through the unfamiliar vessel. “Ethan!” 

“Mark!”

He saw Ethan trying to scramble his way out of the tiny hatch door, the empty Ice Warrior armour a chilling sight behind him. 

He quickly grabbed Ethan under his arms and pulled him out, collapsing onto the floor with Ethan on top of him. 

Ethan latched his arms around him and buried his face into Mark’s shoulder. He quickly wrapped his arms around Ethan and breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“Are you ok?” 

Ethan nodded and started laughing, “holy shit, I hated that.” 

“Yeah, I did too. I’m never doing that to you again.”

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

\--

**County Wexford, Ireland, 1974.**

Mark knocked on the large, ornate door of the manor, the thunder rumbling loudly around them. 

“So the TARDIS brought us here because of a ghost?” Ethan asked, swinging an umbrella around. 

“I guess we’ll find out.” 

The two of them perked up when they heard the door open, a man’s face with large coke-bottle glasses poking out into the darkness. 

“Boo!” Mark joked, surprising the man slightly. “I’m the Doctor, we’re here about the ghost.”

“Doctor what?” The man asked, confused.

“If you want. This is Ethan.” He gestured behind him.

“Who are you?” 

“We’re the Ghostbusters,” Ethan said with a smile.

Mark pushed his way past the man into the large manor, a table full of equipment taking down environmental readings. “We’re here from the Ministry, I’m well aware of your work, Professor Palmer.” 

A woman appeared at the sudden noise and froze in place at the sight of them. “What’s going on?” 

“This is the Doctor,” Palmer started, “you can relax Emma, he’s military intelligence.” 

Mark grinned at the professor believing his lie and rubbed his hands together as he got a closer look at the equipment. “So, technology and a medium, what could go wrong?” 

“Why have you come here?” 

“Well,” Mark placed his hands on his hips, “the Ministry has caught word of what’s been going on here and just sent me over to make sure everything was in order.” 

Palmer gulped and nodded his head, “I understand, sir.” 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sonic, waving it around before checking its readings. 

“What’s that device?” 

“It’s classified I’m afraid, but it’s telling me that you haven’t been exposed to anything lethal. Yet.” 

He spun around, vaguely amused by the looks of confusion on Palmer and Emma's faces, and enamoured by the look of adoration on Ethan’s. 

“So where’s the ghost?” 

A sudden bang upstairs had his eyes widening in excitement as he grabbed a lit candelabra, “who ya gonna call?” 

“Ghostbusters!” Ethan said automatically. 

He started up the grand staircase, Ethan on his hells as Palmer and Emma trailed behind. Thunder boomed around them and Mark followed the sound of another bang from down the hallway. 

“I will not have my work stolen from me!” Palmer insisted, appearing at his side. “I will not allow my hard work to be taken away with a pat on the back and a bullshit letter from the Queen, do you understand? This is my house!” 

“Wait,” Ethan spoke up, “this is your house? You went to the bank and said, ‘you know that old ass manor in the middle of nowhere? That’s so scary not even teenagers want to explore the inside? I want to buy that’ and they said yes?” 

Palmer cleared his throat, “yes I did.” 

“All the power to you, dude. But you wouldn’t catch me doing that.” 

“Listen.” Mark placed his hand on Palmer’s shoulder. “I’m only here to figure out what’s going on. Your work is in no danger.” 

The man nodded his head and started down the hallway, “follow me.” 

They entered into a spacious office and Mark zoned in on a corkboard covered in photographs. 

“Caliburn Manor is over four hundred years old. _She_ has been here much longer.” 

Mark examined the variety of photos, all of which had a blurry, white apparition in frame.

“The Caliburn Ghast, she’s mentioned in Saxon poetry and you can find reference to her in local folklore. _The White Maiden, The Dark Lady. The Witch in the Well._ All names for this woman. Whoever she was.” 

“Is she real?” Ethan asked. 

“Oh she’s real. A clergyman in the 1700s saw her. Claimed that her presence was always followed by a horrible knocking. He said it was as if the Devil himself was demanding entry. During World War I, American airmen were stationed here. They would leave her offerings of spam and spare cigarettes. Sometimes they would leave her notes, begging for her to stop screaming.” 

“She never changes,” Ethan mumbled, stepping forward to examine the photos. “In every photo, the angle is different, the frame is different. But she’s always in the same position, with the same hair, the same dress.” 

He stepped forward and he raised his brows in surprise as he realized that Ethan was right. Every picture, the apparition was in the same position.

“She’s an objective phenomenon, and recording equipment cannot record her without-” 

“- The presence of a powerful medium,” he finished, nodding his head in understanding. 

He zoned in on a disturbing image of the woman rushing the camera, her eyes black and her jaw unhinged to an unnatural degree. It sent a small shiver down his spine before he heard Emma gasp quietly. 

“She knows I’m here. I can feel her, she’s calling out to me.” 

“What’s she saying?” 

“Help me.” 

Mark felt Ethan grab onto the back of his jacket, something he had come to realize Ethan did when he was nervous. Mark himself didn’t like the odd feeling that this was giving him. 

“Witch of the Well. Where’s the well?” He asked, discretely stepping back into Ethan’s space. 

Palmer gestured over to his drawing table, he flipped through a few maps and blueprints until he settled on one of the property. 

“A copy of the oldest plans that we could find show that there isn’t a well on the property. At least one that we could find.” 

An idea popped into his head and he straightened out, glancing over his shoulder at Ethan. “Ethan, let’s go look for the ghost.” 

Immediately Ethan shook his head, “I don’t fucking think so.” 

“C’mon,” he urged, his eyes flickering to Palmer and Emma having a conversation in the corner. “It’ll be quick.” 

“Dare me.” 

Mark smirked, “I dare you.” 

Ethan sighed and carefully took the candelabra from his hand and gestured for Mark to follow. 

They walked down the unlit hallway, the candelabra casting menacing shadows that made Ethan jump. 

He placed a comforting shoulder on his back and felt a warmth in his chest as some of the tension in Ethan’s shoulder’s disappeared. 

“So what happens if we find her?” Ethan asked. 

“We ask her how she ended up the way she did.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I hate not knowing things.” 

His lips twitched at the small snort that came from Ethan and he guided him further down the hallway with a firm hand on his back. 

They entered a room with a large harp and piano and he immediately took his sonic out. The vibe in the room was different from the rest. He could tell that Ethan was feeling the same because his clammy hand slipped into his. He gave him a reassured squeeze and frowned as he examined the room. 

“Do you feel like you’re being watched?” Ethan whispered, looking over his shoulder. 

“Yup.” 

He stopped abruptly in the doorway to another room as the pricking feeling on the back of his neck got worse. There was an immediate temperature difference and he breathed out deeply and watched his breath appear in front of him. “Interesting.” 

Ethan flinched again and pushed himself closer into Mark’s space. “Mark, I’m not happy.”

“No, you wouldn’t be,” he muttered, lost in concentration. 

He let go of Ethan’s hand and strode over to the chalkboard covered in music scales. He grabbed a spare piece of chalk and tried to find the cold spot. Once he determined where it was, he drew a circle on the hardwood floor where he approximated the diameter to be. 

“Come on, let’s keep going.” 

He held his hand out for Ethan and didn’t need to wait long for their hands to connect. They carried on towards another part of the house and both of them flinched at the loud boom that echoed around them. 

“What was that?” 

Mark glanced around the hallway and immediately noticed the sharp temperature drop. A gust of wind blew by them and Ethan dropped the candelabra in surprise as the candles were blown out. 

“Mark, look at the windows!” 

He and Ethan watched as a thick layer of frost quickly covered the inside of the glass-stained windows. 

The feeling on the back of his neck was getting worse. It was almost enough to make him afraid. 

He hurried himself and Ethan back to the main room, just as Palmer jumped from his seat in surprise. 

A small rapidly spinning portal had appeared and the man was frantically trying to take photos of it. 

_“Has this ever happened before?”_

“Never!” Palmer gasped. 

He waved his sonic at it and frowned when he wasn’t getting any readings from it. 

Behind him, Emma gasped and he spun around to see another portal in the doorway, a white apparition in the middle. 

_Help me!_ The air around them seemed to scream. 

He yanked the camera from Palmer’s hands and frantically tried to take as many pictures of it as he could before it disappeared. 

“Mark,” Ethan’s scared voice squeaked, “look at the wall.” 

He spun around and felt a chill as the words _Help me_ were singed into the wall in frost for a brief moment before disappearing. 

“What the fuck just happened?” 

\-- 

Ethan grimaced as they ran through the pouring rain towards the TARDIS. He felt a weird sensation as he got closer and came to a halt. “Does the TARDIS like me? It feels like it doesn’t.” 

Mark laughed from where he was trying to unlock the door, “nah, the TARDIS might take a while to trust, but it doesn’t hate people.” 

Mark held the door open for him and he couldn’t help but shake off the rain in his hair. 

“Hey!” Mark scolded, “getting water everywhere is not the way to get the TARDIS to like you!”

Ethan pouted and leaned against the railing, “where are we going?” 

“We aren’t going anywhere.” 

_“When_ are we going?” He corrected. 

Mark gave him the smile that made his knees weak and he couldn’t help the small smile of his own that creeped out. 

“We’re going everywhere. I need to see how long this woman has been trapped here. Do you have any film cameras?” Mark asked. 

“Yeah I got a few. Want me to grab one?” 

Mark nodded his head, as he fiddled with the controls, “get whatever one you’re the least attached to.” 

Ethan nodded and he hurried towards his studio, hardly even stumbling when the TARDIS took off. 

He quickly grabbed the camera and hurried back to the console room to find Mark dressed in a spacesuit. 

“Be right back,” he said before he hurried outside. Ethan could feel the immense heat from where he was standing. 

They stopped in a few more eras and Mark took a few more pictures, Ethan watching every time from the monitor in the TARDIS. 

After the last stop in the future, the earth nothing but burning rock, Ethan couldn’t help but feel a little emotional. 

“Hey would you be able to set up your darkroom- what’s the matter?” Mark asked, “Did the TARDIS say something?”

Mark slapped his gloves against the console, “Are you being mean to Ethan?” 

He shook his head as tears welled in his eyes, “no it wasn’t that. Um. Did we just watch the entire life of the earth?” 

“Yeah?” 

“And you’re perfectly fine with that?” 

Mark frowned, “why wouldn’t I be? The TARDIS _is_ time.” 

Ethan shook his head and pressed his palm into his eyelid, “that isn’t what I mean.” 

“Context?” Mark asked nervously. 

“One minute, we’re in 1974, hunting ghosts. But to you, I haven’t been born yet. In that same moment, I’ve been dead for billions of years.” 

He pointed a finger at the burning hunk of rock outside, “is my body out there? Somewhere?” 

Mark scuffed his foot against the ground and refused to meet his eyes, “technically, yes.” 

“But I’m right here, talking with you. _Don’t you get it?_ ” 

He choked back a sob as Mark leaned against the railing on the far side of the TARDIS, facing away from him. 

“Mark, to you I’m just a ghost. Everyone is just a ghost to you. What’s the difference between me and the woman we’re looking for?” 

“Everything.” 

Mark spun around, sadness in his eyes. “Everything about you is different. You’re the only mystery worth solving, Ethan.” 

Mark cautiously approached him with his arms wide and he couldn’t help himself but fall into them. “You’re everything to me, Eth.” 

He nodded his head, finding himself unable to speak and pressed his face into Mark’s neck. The feeling of Mark’s arms around him had quickly become the place he felt safest. 

“C’mon, we have a ghost to catch.” 

\-- 

Ethan stared at the corkboard in the manner, his thoughts lingering on the events earlier in the TARDIS. 

“Is everything ok?” Emma asked, placing a concerned hand on his shoulder. 

“Not really,” he confessed. “I saw something I wish I hadn’t.” 

“What was it?” 

“That everything comes to an end.” 

“No.” Emma shook her head, “you’re wrong. Not everything has an end. Love doesn’t always end.” 

Ethan saw the way she snuck a look over towards Palmer. He would never admit that he immediately thought of Mark. 

“Alright!” Mark announced to the room, finally finished pinning up all the photos he had developed for him. 

“The Witch in the Well. Never changing, trapped in a moment of fear. What if she’s trapped somewhere where time runs differently? One millennium for us, being seconds for her.” 

Mark pointed to the progression of photographs, each one having a more prominent image of the woman. 

“She’s not a ghost,” he said proudly. “She’s definitely a lost soul. But she’s alive. Her name is Hila, she’s one of the world’s first time travelers. Well, we’re still a few centuries away from that.” 

“Time travel isn’t possible, the paradoxes-” 

“Resolve themselves.” Mark interrupted. 

“How long has she been alone?” Emma asked.

“From her perspective? She crashed about three minutes ago.” 

“Crashed? Where?” 

Mark spun around and faced them, “she’s in a pocket universe. It’s adjacent to our own and they usually only last for a few minutes before resolving themselves. You, Emma, are the light that’s trying to lead her home. Back to our universe.” 

“But what is she running from?” He asked. 

“I don’t know. Let’s look at the next photo.” 

Mark plucked the photo off the corkboard and grimaced, before he passed the photo to Palmer, who took off his glasses in disbelief. 

“What is it, Mark?” 

“I don’t know. But what I do know, is that it’s up to Emma to save Hila.” 

“What? Why me?” 

“Because you are the light that is guiding her home.” 

“Mark, can’t the TARDIS fly into a parallel universe?” Ethan asked quietly. 

Mark leaned into his space, “it’s not a parallel universe. It’s a pocket universe. And it’s collapsing. Sure, the TARDIS could fly there, but it would struggle to get out. It would rot there until the power core gives out. Which would take about three million years.” 

Ethan grimaced. 

“Well, let’s get this show on the road!” 

\--

Ethan watched as Mark adjusted the headpiece on Emma’s head, setting her in the middle of a circle of clocks, a large crystal thing that Mark said was important, glowing next to her. 

“So, let’s go over the plan one more time. I’m going to jump into the pocket universe, find the time traveler before the pocket universe closes and we should be all good.” 

Mark gave him a thumbs up and fiddled with his harness. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Emma.” 

“I’m speaking to the spirit in this manor,” Emma stuttered, “I’m speaking to you, Hila.”

The hands on all the clocks started to spin rapidly, a chill blowing through the room. The portal from earlier suddenly appeared in the doorway, shattering into a blinding white light. A strong gust of wind swirled around the room. 

“It’s a wormhole!” Mark shouted over the roar of the wind. “I’m going in!” 

Ethan watched, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as Mark ran inside the wormhole. The large spool of rope attached to his harness swirling to keep up with him. 

“Doctor! Come home!” Emma cried, her eyes starting to roll back into her skull. 

He brought his thumb up to his mouth and started to gnaw at it, anxious for Mark’s return. 

“Doctor, please!” Emma screamed, her hands white where they gripped the arms of her chair. “I’m not sure how long I can last!” 

“You’re doing great, Emma,” he encouraged, “just a little longer.” 

When a few minutes had passed and Mark wasn’t back, he started to panic. He couldn’t stand still anymore and found himself pacing the room, trying to block out Emma screaming in agony. 

Three sharp tugs on the spool caught his attention and he raced over to help Palmer wind up the rope. 

As he was winding up the rope, he failed to notice the way that Emma had slouched in the chair, her headpiece falling off. 

Just as the wormhole started to flicker, a woman burst through, right before it closed. Mark was nowhere in sight. 

His stomach fell and his entire body was cold. He couldn’t hear anything but ringing in his ears as he stumbled over to where the wormhole had just been. 

“Wake her up!” He shouted, falling to his knees and he crawled over to Emma’s body. Palmer cradling her head in his lap. 

“You have to open up the thing!” He begged. 

“She can’t look at her!” Palmer scolded, “she did great.” 

_“No!”_ He cried, “it wasn’t enough, Mark is still trapped there.” 

He stumbled to his feet and ran blindly outside to the TARDIS, a weird clock-like gonging sound was being emitted from it every few seconds. 

He ran full speed into the doors, expecting them to open, but was shocked when he collided against them. 

He tried to push the doors open and felt like crying when they wouldn’t open for him. 

“Let me in!” He shouted at the TARDIS, “you have to let me in!” 

“I am the TARDIS Voice Visual Interface,” a voice said behind him. 

He spun around and was shocked to see himself standing there. 

“I am programmed to replicate the image out of the billions in my database that best fits the emergency situation. This face fits the criterium.” His voice repeated back at him robotically. 

“You have to help, Mark!” He begged. 

“The Doctor is trapped in the pocket universe.” 

He frantically gripped his hair in his hands, “I know that, go to the pocket universe and save him!” 

His duplicate cocked his head to the side, “that would drain the energy from my heart. In four seconds, I would be stranded, another ten seconds and I would be dead.” 

“So you’re telling me you aren’t going to do anything to save Mark?” He asked in disbelief. “You’ve been travelling with him since the very beginning and when he needs you the most, you’re abandoning him?” 

His duplicate looked at him with blank eyes before disappearing in front of him. 

He yelled out in frustration and spun around to start banging on the doors to the TARDIS. 

“Mark always tells me that you know him better than anyone else! He’s been so loyal to you and you’re leaving him to die because you’re scared? Imagine how he feels, being alone with that fucking monster!” 

He rested his forehead against the TARDIS and weakly pounded on it with his palm. “Some friend you are to him.” 

The TARDIS groaned and Ethan froze, afraid that it would start to take off and leave him in 1974, without Mark. 

Instead, he was surprised when he stumbled forward, the TARDIS doors wide open. 

He looked up towards the ceiling with wide eyes. His duplicate was back and glaring down at him. 

“You care about the Doctor?” It asked.

“Of course, I care about Mark!” He insisted, feeling a little insulted. “How could you say I don’t care about Mark when you’re the one that was going to leave him” 

The duplicate looked at him one last time before it disappeared, the lights flashed and he barely had time to cling onto the console before the doors slammed shut and started to take off. 

It was the roughest ride he’d ever experienced, the TARDIS jolting and spinning around as it fought to get inside the pocket universe. He clung onto the console for dear life, his eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t know which way was up or down. He just hoped he wouldn’t throw up. 

After what felt like forever, he swore he could hear Mark yelling, followed by surprised laughter. Just a few seconds later, he felt something slam up against the side of the TARDIS before it landed. 

Ethan scrambled to the door, his head spinning as he ripped it open, revealing Palmer’s study. More importantly, revealing Mark clinging to the side of the TARDIS, his hair a mess and his eyes wild. But he was there. 

Ethan flung himself at Mark, nearly knocking the two of them to the ground. But like he always did, Mark caught him and held him close, laughing in disbelief. “Miss me?” 

“Fuck you.” 

Mark laughed for real this time and Ethan relished in the fact that he’d actually managed to convince the TARDIS to save Mark. 

“I did it,” he said quietly. 

“Yeah you did,” Mark mumbled back, “you saved me.” 

\--

Mark purposefully hung back as Ethan, Palmer and Hila finished cleaning up the equipment in the study, hoping to get a private word in with Emma. 

As if sensing his thoughts, the woman in question appeared at his side, “you wanted a word?” 

“Ethan,” was all he said, knowing she would know what he was after.

The knowing look in her eyes told him he would get the information he was after. “You were never here for the ghost, it was always him, wasn’t it?” 

Mark made a non-committal noise and shoved his hands into his pockets, “what is he?” 

Emma cocked an eyebrow, “he’s a boy. An average boy. Handsome, a little too quick to trust, wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s very clever and far more afraid than he lets on.” 

“And that’s all?” He persisted. 

“Yes? What more are you after?” 

Mark shook his head and glanced over at Ethan. He caught his eye and couldn’t help but smile as Ethan gave him a little wave. 

“He’s more than average. He’s impossible.” 

\--

**Unknown.**

Mark sighed as he flopped over in bed for what felt like the millionth time. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t able to get back to bed. His mind kept wandering back to what Emma had told him; that Ethan was completely average. He couldn’t believe it, there was no way he was. It didn’t make sense to him. Yet, after traveling with Ethan for more than six months now, he was beginning to believe that maybe she was right. 

Ethan certainly was special. He knew just how to push his buttons one second and then make him bark out in laughter the next. Mark couldn’t figure him out.

With a groan, he realized he wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep and sat up, his comforter pooling at his waist. 

Still half asleep, he pushed himself out of bed and grabbed one of Ethan’s blankets that he kept forgetting to give back instead of putting on a shirt. 

He grabbed his glasses from his bedside table before he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders like a cape and shuffled to his door, the metal floor warm under his bare feet. 

The hallway is still dark as he peered out, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Ethan’s door was closed as he walked by, heading for the console room. 

Despite being in the dark, Mark knew his way to the console room like the back of his hand. 

The barely audible hum of the TARDIS seemed a little louder when he walked into the console room, the lights in the floor getting a little brighter as he walked towards the doors. 

The doors opened for him and he ran his fingers across the wall of the TARDIS in thanks as he crouched down in the doorway. He adjusted his positioning until he was leaned against the door frame with one leg dangling out into the void of space, with his other leg straight, his foot touching the other side of the doorframe. 

He leaned his head back and relaxed, enjoying the emptiness around him. The silence was a comfort. Mark could spend hours looking out there and never feel any less excited than he did the first time he saw space, all those centuries ago. 

The sound of footsteps had him lazily turning his head to the side, Ethan’s silhouette passing the console. 

Mark’s hearts fluttered at Ethan’s sleepy appearance. His eyes were bleary, still clearly half asleep. His hair was a mess and his too big pajama pants scuffed the floor where Ethan was dragging his feet. 

Ethan stopped in front of him and without needing to be asked, he lifted his leg back inside and shifted his legs wider to make space for Ethan to settle between them. 

Once Ethan was settled, Mark brought his knees up and wrapped the blanket around the two of them, enjoying the weight of Ethan against his chest and the heat of his still sleep-warm body. 

Mark had figured out very early on that Ethan was a very physical person. And while he wasn’t usually the type for it, he couldn’t say no to Ethan. This was how Ethan showed his love. He thrived off proximity and casual affection and Mark enjoyed every second of it. 

The thing is, he never got involved with the people he traveled with. He used to, up until one of his past selves had gotten in too deep and gotten hurt. It scared the next few regenerations off of having romantic partners. He’d convinced himself that it was for the better, having a few strictly friends around. It was even easier when he traveled with a few people at a time. But at the same time, it was awful, he would establish tight bonds with these people over other worldly experiences and eventually, they would leave. 

People grow and change. Mark understood that. He was the same. But the spontaneous nature of himself and the TARDIS grew old, and people started to crave stability. People always leave. They had their reasons, the main one being age. Eventually, it became too hard to chase him across the universe. Other times, people like Bob and Wade would meet a cruel fate, leaving him alone and bitter. 

Then there was the odd occasion where he would regenerate, and whatever that version of himself became, it wasn’t compatible with his companion anymore and they would leave. 

It was a blessing and a curse. He didn’t age like humans did. He would stay the same for long periods at a time, while humans were cursed with aging at a steady, unstoppable rate. 

But then there was Ethan, perfect Ethan, who had broken him down and caused him to cross the line in the sand he had drawn towards his feelings. He knew if he asked, Ethan would say yes in a heartbeat. The crush he was harbouring on him loomed over their heads. He was just the same, but after centuries of practice, he was better at hiding it. But it was times like right now, when he was dozing in and out of sleep with Ethan in his arms that he let his feelings show. 

The only problem is that Ethan doesn’t know that this isn’t the first Ethan Nestor that Mark’s met. In fact, he’s the fourth Ethan. There was Ethan on Gallifrey, who Mark had been careless and lost. There was E. Nestor Darling, who Mark couldn’t save. Then there was Ethan Nestor Darling, who Mark had watched fall to his death. 

Mark didn’t know how long he could keep that from Ethan. But for right now, he was going to ignore that problem and enjoy the harmony between them. Maybe Ethan was a sign from the universe, a beacon of light to get Mark out of his darkness. 

Ethan shifted against his chest and Mark tightened his arms around him instinctively. 

“Bed?” Ethan mumbled, clearly just waking up from a doze. 

Mark nodded and let Ethan go, the skin on his chest going cold as he pulled himself up. 

Ethan’s hand found his, like he was expecting, and Mark led the two of them out of the console room, the TARDIS closing the doors for him. 

Ethan was almost asleep on his feet when they got to their rooms. In a moment of weakness, as Ethan was letting his hand go, Mark tightened his grip. 

“Stay with me?” He whispered, his hearts thumping in his ears. 

Ethan didn’t even miss a step before he sleepily nodded his head and shuffled past into his room and collapsed on his bed. 

Mark smiled fondly at him, shoving away the nagging thought in his brain that was telling him this was a bad idea. He had just crossed the line and wouldn’t be able to turn back. 

But he didn’t care. Ethan was his weakness, and Mark didn’t even bother to ignore it. 

Instead he quietly closed his door and climbed into bed next to Ethan, who immediately rolled over, threw an arm over his waist and buried his face in Mark’s chest. 

It was different, sleeping with someone after being alone for so long. But it was something Mark was ready, and willing to get used to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> как ты попал на борт - "How did you get aboard?" 
> 
> сдерживать их - "Restrain them" 
> 
> Откуда ты это знаешь - "How do you know this?" 
> 
> Капитан - "Captain?"
> 
> Боковое усилие на все гребные винты правого борта - "Lateral thrust to all propellers starboard!"
> 
> Капитан, вы действительно собираетесь подчиняться приказам этого человека - "Captain, are you really going to take orders from this man?" 
> 
> Боковая тяга сейчас - "Lateral thrust now!"
> 
> Капитан, мы выровнялись на семьсот метров ниже уровня моря - "Captain, we’ve levelled out at seven hundred metres below sea-level" 
> 
> Похоже, мы обязаны вам жизнью - "It appears as if we owe you our lives" 
> 
> Искать их - "Search them"


	8. Ghosts of Our Pasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update, thing's have really picked up with school and I can't time manage for shit. We're getting close to the end now. I hope you're all still enjoying :) 
> 
> btw, there's a content warning at the bottom, just in case

**Portland, Maine, 2021.**

Something had changed since that night. While Ethan had always been one for physical touch and reassurance, it was near constant after that first night they shared Mark’s bed. The touches were more confident and firm instead of hesitant and unsure. Instead of catching Ethan’s eyes and having him quickly turn away with his cheeks pink, he maintained eye contact, openly admiring. It was like watching Ethan blossom in front of his eyes. The timidness that Ethan had shown earlier on was common for new companions. But it had quickly burned away as soon as he had seen the heat in Mark’s eyes. It was like the last little bit of himself that had been holding back was gone and Mark could selfishly reap all the benefits. 

_“Wears his heart on his sleeve…”_ He heard Emma’s voice in the back of his mind. _“Far more afraid than he lets on…”_

Mark scoffed at the thought of Ethan being afraid anymore. He could see the amazement and joy in Ethan’s eyes when they were saving the world together. Even when they were running away from something that was trying to kill them, Mark could hear the thrill in Ethan’s hysterical laughter. 

The biggest change that had occurred was their sleeping arrangements. The two of them had woken up the next morning as if nothing had happened, like the two of them hadn’t shared the night wrapped up in each other’s presence. Ethan had simply given him a sleepy, lopsided smile before trudging out of bed into his own room to shower and get ready for a shoot he had to do. 

Mark won’t admit it outloud, but that night was the best night of sleep he’d had in centuries. 

What made Mark’s hearts soar was that Ethan came back. Once Ethan’s shoot had finished, he’d stumbled through the heavy blanket of snow that had fallen, straight back into the TARDIS that was parked in his backyard. He had made a beeline straight for Mark’s room, not even bothering to close the door as his tired body flopped facedown on the bed, asleep almost instantly. 

Ever since then, the two of them had been alternating between each other's rooms. Sometimes Mark would still catch himself looking longingly at Ethan’s closed door before he shook his head in realization and opened the door to a smiling Ethan. He’d climb in next to him and drift off to the sounds of Ethan breathing and Benjamin the stone garyole’s wings flapping. 

The one thing that nagged at Mark’s brain was the fact that they hadn’t actually talked about it. They had just accepted this new normal without formally acknowledging it. He wasn’t going to complain by any means, he was on the receiving end of Ethan’s love and that was more than enough for him. 

Even now, as he was helping put away dishes in Ethan’s kitchen after supper while Ethan tried to help Eddy and Tony with their homework, Mark felt a sense of peace and belonging that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He wasn’t going to ruin this routine that they had built up. If Ethan wanted more of Mark, he would give it all to Ethan in a heartbeat, all he had to do was ask. 

“Mark?” 

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked over his shoulder where Ethan and Tony were both staring at him with poorly concealed frustration. Eddy bopping his head away to whatever music he was listening to. 

“Can you come help please? I can’t do math.” 

Mark’s lips twitched into a smirk as Ethan scrubbed his hand through his already frazzled hair in frustration. “Be right there.” 

\--

Once Mr. Burback had come to pick up the twins, instead of making a beeline back into the TARDIS, the two of them settled onto Ethan’s couch, content with watching the fire crackle in Ethan’s small wood burning fireplace. Eventually, Ethan turned the TV on to the local news, just for some background noise.

Mark slouched deeper into the couch, grunting in feigned annoyance as Ethan stretched out his legs into Mark’s lap. With a gentle tap of Ethan’s foot to his stomach, Mark already knew what Ethan was asking for, having been on his feet all day for a few photoshoots in the fresh snow. 

Mark delicately traced patterns on Ethan’s ankle bone with his thumb before being a little more firm with Ethan’s calves. The pleased groan he immediately got from Ethan, paired with his pointed toes told him he was on the right track. It was moments like this that he treasured. The casual intimacy that had developed between the two of them. 

“Hey Mark?” Ethan asked, still holding his phone in front of his face. 

He lolled his head to the side in acknowledgement and squeezed Ethan’s ankle, “yeah?” 

Ethan didn’t respond immediately and Mark had a suspicion that Ethan was taking his picture. He was too content with the calm atmosphere between the two of them to pull a face like he would normally do, he figured Ethan deserved at least a few nice pictures of him. 

Ethan locked his phone with a click and let it fall to his chest. “What’s Gallifrey like? I know you said you needed to leave, but you never talk about it.” 

Mark pondered for a moment, tapping an irregular beat on Ethan’s shin to try and hide the way he always got fidgety when someone mentioned his home planet. 

“I’m not just a Time Lord,” he started, shifting more to face Ethan. “I’m the last of the Time Lords.” 

Mark pretended to ignore the way Ethan’s eyebrows creased in concern and instead focused on the snow that was building in the window. “There’s no one left.” 

“What happened?” 

“The Time War. We fought against a race called the Daleks.” He pushed memories of E. Nestor Darling to the back of his mind. “We lost, everyone lost. Everyone I knew is long gone.”

He looked back over at Ethan and took in the sorrowful look on the younger’s face. “But what I miss the most is the burnt orange sky. The second son would rise to the south and the silver leaves on the trees would look like fire.” It had been a long time since Mark had thought about Gallifrey like this, in a way it was cathartic to talk about his home with another person. To remind himself that Gallifrey was a place that had existed and not just a distant memory. “You know the galaxy that the TARDIS projects onto my ceiling at night?”

Ethan nodded and stared at him inquisitively. The second night he had been awake enough to actually see Mark’s ceiling, he had been amazed by it and had asked if the same could be done in his own room. 

“It’s Kasterborous, the galaxy that Gallifrey was in. That view is what I saw out of the TARDIS the first day I started running.” 

Ethan made a wounded sound and before Mark knew it, Ethan was in his lap, legs on either side of his hips with his arms wrapped around his shoulders. “How does that not get lonely?” 

Mark shrugged, his hands automatically splayed out on Ethan’s waist as he breathed in the smell of Ethan’s soap. “Why do you think I never travel alone? Can’t be lonely when I have your ADHD ass with me wherever I go.” 

Ethan snorted and shifted back in Mark’s lap so they could look at one another. “What were they like? The people you traveled with before me?” 

His grip on Ethan’s waist tightened for a brief second before he realized that this was inevitable. He knew Ethan would ask eventually. 

“They were the closest thing I’d had for a family in a really long time,” he confessed. “Bob and Wade. We travelled together for years before…” He trailed off and Ethan ran a reassuring hand through his hair. 

“Before they died.” He finished. 

“I spent so long beating myself up over it. What I could have done better, how I could have saved them. But there was nothing anyone could do.” 

“How did they die?” Ethan gently prodded. 

“Remember when you bought Benjamin? And I mentioned ‘living stone’?” 

Ethan nodded with a frown, as he fiddled with his hands, unsure where to place them. Mark gently grasped at his wrists and brought their hands together, his thumbs rubbing circles into Ethan’s skin. 

“They’re called the Weeping Angels,” he started, “they fucking suck. They’re these ancient beings that inhabit statues. If you blink, and you’re lucky, they’ll snap your neck.” 

Ethan leaned back in minor shock, _“if you’re lucky?”_

He nodded his head, “they attack when you aren’t looking, one single touch and they send you back in time. That’s what happened to Bob and Wade. They both lived long, good lives, but they were men out of their time. The Angels fed off of their time energy. They’re the most humane psychopaths in the universe.” 

“Why are they called ‘Weeping Angels’?” 

“They can take the form of any statue, but typically they’ve preferred to pick angels. They quantum-lock, so when you’re looking at them, or they believe they’re being watched, they freeze and cover their eyes. Otherwise, they move incredibly fast and before you know it, you’ve been sent back in time with no way back.” 

“Why can’t you just go in the TARDIS and get them?” 

“The paradox would rip apart an area the size of New York. I had to let them go.” 

Ethan squeezed his hands, “I’m sorry, Mark.” 

He shook his head, “don’t be. They were incredible friends, brother’s really. I’m just glad they got to live out their lives happily.” 

“Where are they buried?” 

“Cincinnati.” 

Ethan shifted in his lap, “could we maybe go visit them sometime? They clearly meant a lot to you.” 

Mark blinked in surprise, “you’d want to do that?” 

Ethan nodded his head eagerly, “only if you’re comfortable with me being there.” 

“Of course!” 

Mark nearly melted at the soft smile Ethan gave him, “I know it’s late, but could we go now? Would the TARDIS take us there or would that be paradox-y?” 

Mark’s chest was filled with complete adoration as his hearts tried to bust out of his ribcage, “if you want, are you sure you aren’t tired?” 

Ethan slipped off Mark’s lap and went to the door to put on his boots, “I can always get more sleep in the TARDIS, right? It is a time machine after all.” 

Mark couldn’t help the exhilarated laugh that he let out as he pushed himself up off the couch to get his own shoes. “Now you understand the benefits of time travel.” 

Ethan handed him his coat and Mark couldn’t help himself as he pulled Ethan in by the waist and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “thank you. You don’t have to do this, you know.” 

Ethan flapped his hand at him, “shut up, you know I would do anything for you, moron.” 

He did know that. He absolutely knew that. He couldn’t get rid of the smile on his face as the two of them got dressed for the cold and trudged to Ethan’s back door. Mark had to help him open the sliding door, as the seemingly endless snowfall had frozen it shut. 

Ethan grumbled at the amount of snow that had fallen since the last time he had been out to shovel and salt the pathway to the TARDIS they tried to maintain. “Fucking winter.” 

Mark laughed at the way Ethan’s face scrunched up and started towards the TARDIS, “come on, idiot. You can shovel when we get back. We won’t slip on a few inches of snow.” 

Ethan slowly trailed behind him and it took Mark until he was pushing the doors to the TARDIS open that he realized Ethan was using his footsteps so he wouldn’t get snow in his boots. 

He shook his head fondly, striding up to the console. The TARDIS hummed loudly, like it knew where they were going. 

“Do you wanna drive?” He asked Ethan, who had appeared over his shoulder. 

“Can I?” He asked, eyes wide. 

Mark glanced up at the TARDIS and when the hum never changed he stepped aside, “no objections from the TARDIS.” 

Ethan cautiously approached the console, his hands fluttering, “ok what do I do?” 

He stepped up behind him and placed his hands on Ethan’s wrists, guiding him to the buttons and levers he needed to use in order to set the time, date and location of where they were going. 

Once the familiar wheeze started, Ethan leaned back into him and laughed in surprise, “I never thought you would let me do this.” 

Mark frowned and rested his chin on Ethan’s shoulder, “why not?” 

“I just didn’t think the TARDIS liked me enough, and I know it's your favourite.” 

His frown deepened, “don’t let the TARDIS boss you around.” He flicked the console in annoyance, “I’m the Time Lord, I make the decisions and I say that you can drive us across time and space.” 

Ethan craned his head around to look at him, “as long as you’re sure we won’t die.” 

“Well where’s the fun in that?” He joked. “I’ll have you know that you’re my favourite, actually.” 

Ethan blinked in surprise, standing firm as the TARDIS landed, “really?” 

“No, it’s Benjamin actually. I see the way he looks at me.” 

Mark hardly had time to swerve out of the way of Ethan’s hand, trying to whack at him, “fuck you!” 

He laughed at Ethan’s sudden poutiness until he glanced at the TARDIS monitor. The almost pitch black of the cemetery, a sobering sight. 

“I’ve never brought anyone here,” he confessed, slowly turning to stare at the closed doors. 

Ethan’s hand found his own and he took a deep breath, “better late than never I guess.” 

He led the two of them out into the cold cemetery in silence. The snow wasn’t as deep in Cincinnati as it was in Portland, and Mark was thankful for that. But the cold seemed to have more bite with the insides of Mark’s nostrils freezing with every inhale. The deep breath he took in to steel himself almost burned and appeared in front of him as a thick frosty cloud. Even though he knew how to get to Bob and Wade’s headstones with his eyes closed, the walk there always filled his chest with anxiety. 

“Aren’t cemeteries meant to be more religious than this?” Ethan asked, “it’s just row after row of graves.” 

“It’s intentional,” he responded, vaguely making out the white stones he was looking for, “no Weeping Angels here.” 

“Oh.” 

The rest of the short way there was in silence, the only sound being the crunch of the snow under their boots, the normal sounds of the city were insulated from the fresh snow. His grip on Ethan’s hand got progressively tighter the closer they got. But Ethan never commented on the bone-cracking vice Mark had his hand in. 

“Here we are,” he announced, “Wade is right here, and Bob is just a few to the left.” 

The two of them stood in silence, paying their respects to Wade. 

“Normally, I come here in the spring, or summer. Clean things up a little. Make sure there’s no weeds. Stuff like that.” 

Ethan nodded his head, “I’m just sorry I didn’t get the chance to meet them.” 

Mark nodded, finding it difficult to speak as his throat started to close, “they were exactly what I needed. I met them right when I regenerated and they helped me figure out what this regeneration would be like. I’m not lying when I say that I am who I am because of these guys.” 

He let go of Ethan’s hand as he stepped closer towards the headstone and pulled the sleeve of his coat over his hand so he could brush off the snow that had settled on top. “Hey Wade, sorry it’s been so long since I was here. I got a little busy.” 

He thought it would be awkward talking to the headstone with Ethan here, but Mark was surprised at the comfort that came from not being alone. 

“This is Ethan, he’s my b-” it felt like deja-vu. He was at a loss of what to introduce Ethan as. 

“He’s my companion,” is what he settled on. “You two would have gotten along great. Bob would love him too. He’s funny and easily one of the hardest working people I know. He’s damn good at what he does and has so much potential. After the two of you were gone, I lost sight of myself. But you already know that. Ethan was just what I needed. He made me the Doctor again and I can never thank him enough for that.” 

He glanced over at Ethan and in the dim light he could see the way Ethan’s mouth was pressed together in a flat line, the way he did when he didn’t want to become overwhelmed with emotions. The tremble in Ethan’s breathing evident from his visible breath. Their eyes met and Ethan’s lips twitched upwards, “thanks. But also shut up.” 

A laugh bubbled its way out of his throat and soon enough, Ethan was giggling along with him. It broke the sombre tension that had been surrounding them since they left the TARDIS.

“I mean it, Eth. You work so hard, you’re incredibly creative and I know that everything you make is the best it can be. I’m so proud of you.” 

Ethan made a noise in the back of his throat and leaned in to wrap his arms around Mark’s waist. “I wouldn’t be anywhere near as motivated as I am today without you, Mark. The things we’ve seen together - I couldn’t even imagine them before. But, the way you dive headfirst into helping people without a second thought, regardless of how dangerous it could be is… It’s taught me not to take things for granted, because you never know what day could be your last.” 

The two of them fell into silence in front of Wade’s grave, with their arms around each other, Mark’s nose buried in Ethan’s hair to protect it from the cold. It certainly wasn’t how Mark had planned this to go, but he should know by now to expect the unexpected, especially when Ethan Nestor was involved. 

“As much as I love standing in the cold, let’s go see Bob and we can get back home,” he mumbled into Ethan’s hair. 

Bob’s resting place was at the end of the row, four headstones down from Wade’s. Mark said his hello and similarly with Wade, apologized for not coming to visit before introducing him to Ethan. He carefully brushed the snow off of Bob’s headstone and stepped back to link his arm with Ethan’s, so their cold hands could warm up in their coat pockets. 

“I know it’s not the same, but I know what it’s like to lose someone you love,” Ethan said quietly, “I lost my Granny a few years back and it was one of my first true experiences with death.” 

Mark tried to keep a neutral face as he remembered how devastated Ethan had looked at the funeral. The invasion of his privacy and grief a heavy weight on his chest. “Oh yeah?” He managed to croak out. 

Ethan hadn’t seemed to pick up on how he had stiffened up slightly, maybe he assumed it was from the cold. 

“Like, I had lost pets before, but it’s not the same. Losing someone who you see everyday and have seen everyday since you were a kid, is jarring.” Ethan sniffed and pulled his hand out of his pocket to swipe under his nose. “I was 20 when she died and as soon as I found out, it was like I was a kid again, y’know? Just, remembering every opportunity I didn’t tell her that I loved her, or all those times I was a shitty kid.” 

Mark snaked his arm around Ethan’s waist and pulled him as close as he could, “she knew that you loved her. There’s no way that she wouldn’t know. You wear your heart on your sleeve.” 

Ethan nodded his head and leaned into his side, “maybe I should go see her more, like you do with Bob and Wade. I haven’t been there since the funeral. Might be nice.” 

He hummed in agreement, “yeah, show her that you don’t have blue hair anymore.” 

Ethan suddenly pulled away with a frown on his face, “how did you know about that?” 

_Shit._

“Um,” he stuttered, “I creeped your Instagram?” 

His hearts were pounding in his chest at his slip-up. He couldn’t let Ethan know about what the TARDIS had shown him. _He couldn’t._

Ethan scanned his face and Mark tried to present his panic as embarrassment, “I like to know a little more about who I travel with.” 

“That was years ago. How far down did you scroll, dude?” 

Mark tried to shrug, nonchalantly, desperate to change the conversation. “Far enough. Hey, can you do a flip for me?” 

Ethan groaned and swatted at his chest, “fuck off, you did not see that.” 

“I might have. Not gonna lie, I wasn’t expecting it.” 

Ethan shrugged, “yeah, well, all I got out of it was a cool party trick.” 

He forced out a laugh, “I bet. If it makes you feel better, neither Bob or Wade could do one.” 

Ethan gave him a deadpan stare, “yes, thank you, Mark. It makes me feel _so much better_ that your friends could not be professional gymnasts.” 

“You would’ve loved Bob,” Mark said abruptly, “he didn’t put up with my bullshit either. Well, Wade didn’t either, but Bob was the one who would chirp me for it.” 

Ethan hummed in acknowledgement and crossed his arms over his chest, kicking at the snow. “I really don’t know how I put up with you sometimes.” 

“I don’t know how anyone puts up with me, if I’m being honest.” 

He caught the way Ethan tried to turn away from him to cover up a yawn and jumped at the opportunity to leave. “C’mon, you’re starting to fall asleep, let’s get you to bed. We can always come back when it's warmer.” 

He tugged at Ethan’s arm and turned his head, surprised to see a guilty look on Ethan’s face, “what’s wrong?” 

“We can stay a little longer if you want, I really don’t mind.” Ethan insisted, his demenour betraying the awake appearance he was trying to front. 

“As much as I love these two idiots, I’m sure they would understand us going home to get out of the cold.” He reached out to take Ethan’s cold hand and started to lead him back towards the TARDIS, before calling over his shoulder, “we’ll be back when it’s warmer, Bob!” 

They said their goodbyes to Wade as they passed his headstone, Mark retracing their path in the snow. He had to slow down their pace as Ethan quickly started to fatigue, all the work he had put in today finally catching up with him. “C’mon, almost there,” he encouraged. 

He pushed the TARDIS door open and ushered Ethan inside, “do you want to sleep here tonight, or your house?” 

“Wherever, I don’t care,” Ethan mumbled as he clumsily tried to pull off his boots, flinging snow everywhere. 

“Maine it is,” he said quietly, glancing out at the dark cemetery one last time before he closed the doors. 

As soon as Ethan had left the console room, Mark’s whole body sagged in relief, grateful that Ethan hadn’t pushed deeper into Mark’s slip-up. As the TARDIS started to wheeze to life, he gripped the console and let his head drop. He couldn’t afford another slip-up like that again. He wasn’t sure Ethan would let something like that slide a second time. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: mentions of death and grief


	9. Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> peep the content warnings at the bottom pls :))

**Portland, Maine, 2021.**

“Are you ready?” 

Ethan nodded, feeling slightly anxious as Mark fiddled with the console, turning on Basic Mode so he could fly the TARDIS on his own. 

“So, we’re just gonna do something simple to start. Let’s not worry about the rest of the universe. We’ll stay on the earth and we’ll stay in the same year.” Mark stepped back and gestured grandly at the console, “she’s all yours.” 

He cautiously stepped up to the console and placed his fingertips on the cool metal. He had flown the TARDIS before, but Mark was always right behind him, telling him what to do. This would be his first time flying solo and the nerves were starting to get to him. 

“Don’t overthink. I can hear the gears turning in your head.” Mark placed a gentle hand on the small of his back, “you’ve done much more complicated things than this.” 

“But you were always there.” He said immediately, leaning back into Mark’s touch as Mark trailed his fingers up his spine. 

“I’m right here.” 

Ethan rolled his eyes and swatted at Mark’s hand when it started creeping towards the ticklish spot at the junction between his neck and shoulder. “You know what I mean.” 

The TARDIS groaned and the lights flashed, causing Mark to chuckle, “looks like someone’s getting impatient with you. C’mon, let’s shoot for anywhere in Italy and then we’ll go from there.” 

“Ok,” Ethan rolled back his shoulders and shook out the jitters in his arms as he approached the console. “Ok, I can do this. We’re just relocating. No time travel. No nothing.” 

He nervously chewed at the corner of his lip as his hands hovered above the console. With cautious hands, he started pressing the buttons he believed were correct before he flipped a lever. 

The TARDIS started taking off with a groan and his hands went to grip the console. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mark leaning against the railing, a small smile on his face. 

It felt like forever until the TARDIS landed and all the tension in his body left him all at once. 

“Did I do it?” He asked, his head whipping around to seek out Mark’s approval. 

“Well,” Mark strode up to the console and grabbed at the monitor, “we’re definitely in Italy, let’s go see _when_ we are in Italy.” 

Ethan balled the cuffs of Mark’s hoodie that he was wearing in his fists as his palms got clammy. He slowly followed behind Mark as he opened the TARDIS doors a crack. The two of them poked their heads out and recoiled at the same time. 

The smell that hit Ethan’s nose made him gag. It was a combination of acidic smoke and death. His nose burned with each inhale and from the looks of it, Mark was experiencing a similar reaction. 

“What the fuck is going on?” He coughed, pulling the collar of his hoodie over his mouth and nose. 

Mark was silent as he stared out into the night, “I’m not sure, let’s go check it out.” 

_“What?”_ Ethan squawked, “why?” 

“Because I hate not knowing things.” 

Mark reached his hand out blindly and Ethan reluctantly grabbed at his fingers as Mark led them out into the warm, smoky air. 

The streets were cobblestone and the main source of light that Ethan could see was torches lining the street every few feet. They could hear the loud crackle of fire and could dimly see a large blaze in the distance, but there was an eerie lack of human life. 

“Where is everyone?” He asked Mark, trying to keep his mouth and nose covered as they made their way closer to the blaze. 

“I don’t know,” Mark said, jumping slightly as a group of large rats charged out of an alleyway. “By the looks of things I think we’re in the 17th century, maybe? Definitely Italy though, so you got that part right.” 

The closer they got to the source of the fire, the worse the smell got. His throat and eyes burned, but Mark still led them closer. 

“Oh shit,” he gasped as they rounded a corner to see a building on fire. There were a few people with torches standing a few feet away and his heart started to race as he stared at the arsonists casual body language. 

_“Mark_ , _”_ he hissed, trying to push the two of them out of sight, _“those people are burning this house down and no one’s stopping them!”_

He frantically looked at Mark, who had a grim look on his face. “I know when we are now.” 

All of a sudden, the group of people scattered and Ethan’s ears strained as he thought he could hear the sounds of bells chiming. 

“Fuck,” Mark cursed and almost dragged Ethan into the darkness of a nearby alley before pulling him close to his chest, keeping his arms around his shoulders in a tight grip, “stay quiet and don’t move, ok?” 

The severity of Mark’s tone caused him to freeze, his stomach in his throat as the bells got louder. He wrapped his arms tightly around Mark’s waist in fear and buried his face in his shoulder, desperately trying to breathe in Mark’s smell instead of the rancid air. 

The bells stopped briefly and Ethan heard what sounded like something heavy being dragged before a few loud slapping sounds. Soon after, the bells started again, accompanied by the quieter sound of wood creaking. 

“Oh my god,” he heard Mark mutter and couldn’t help himself as he peaked out to see a figure dressed in all white pulling a cart full of something Ethan couldn’t make out from the combination of darkness and his burning eyes. The chimes of bells occurring at the same pace the figure was walking.

The putrid smell intensified and Ethan had to force down the bile that appeared in his throat as he shoved his face back into Mark’s shoulder, the same time that Mark did the same to him. 

“Who is that?” He asked quietly, flinching at the loud crash of the burning building collapsed behind them.

“They’re called the _Pizzigamorti,_ they go around during plagues and force sick people into plague hospitals or plague islands. They’re the ones responsible for collecting the bodies of people who’ve died from the plague and take them to be burned.” 

Ethan felt a wave of nausea rush through him as he realized that the cart had been full of dead bodies. “ _What?”_

Ethan felt Mark ball his fists into the back of his hoodie, “so many people died during the plague that it was impossible to treat or bury them all. Even the people that could afford to be treated still had a high chance of dying because they don’t understand germ theory yet. Those people are responsible to get the sick and dead out of the city to keep other people from getting sick.” 

Mark slowly let him go and peered around the corner, “but that means that we’re in Italy during a plague and we need to leave, _now.”_

Ethan didn’t need to be told twice, he looked around the corner to see the still burning remains of the building before following Mark. 

“Halt! This city is under lockdown by order of the Pope!” 

The two of them stopped in their tracks and turned around to see another figure in white quickly approaching them, a bell in each hand. 

“Return to your home or be sent to a plague island!” 

“Run!” Mark grabbed his hand and the two of them took off, looking to put as much distance between them and the Pizzigamorti. Mark led them down a small alleyway and weaved them through tiny, cramped streets. The sounds of people coughing and being sick surrounded them and the back of Ethan’s mind reminded him that they were in the middle of a community full of people with the plague. 

“Mark we need to get back to the TARDIS!” He gasped, adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

“I’m aware of that, but we need to lose the Pizzigamorti first, if we get sent to a plague island, you’ll die!” 

That shut Ethan up and he put all of his energy towards putting one foot in front of the other and keeping pace with Mark. 

Eventually his lungs started to burn and he needed to slow down. Mark could clearly sense him starting to lag behind and looked behind them before he came to a stop. The two of them slouched over as they attempted to catch their breath. 

“What was with the bells?” He asked in between pants, the air still thick with smoke. 

“So people can hear them coming and get the hell out of the way. That’s why they wear white, so people can see them better.” 

“And what about the building?” He asked. 

“Someone must have died in that house,” Mark said grimmly, “that was how they cleansed things, burning the disease away.” 

“Jesus.” 

“Not exactly what I had in mind when I said Italy, but at least you got us here,” Mark joked, “let’s get moving again.” 

Soon enough, through the hazy night, the lights of the TARDIS started to become visible.

A sudden rush of guilt hit him and he slowed for a second, “I’m sorry.” 

Mark spun around to look at him, not slowing his pace as he walked backwards, “don’t be sorry, you’re still learning. Getting us here was more complex than what I wanted you to do anyways.” 

“If you’re sure,” he mumbled, refusing to meet Mark’s eyes as they approached the TARDIS. 

Ethan shoved the doors open and made a beeline towards his room before Mark grabbed his arm, “Ethan?” 

Mark placed his hand under Ethan’s chin and gently guided it to look at him, “what’s wrong?” 

Ethan shrugged, “I’m just sorry I brought us here. I fucked up.” 

Mark frowned, “you didn’t fuck up. You’re learning. The TARDIS is the most complex ship in the universe and the fact that you managed to fly it in the first place is something you should be proud of.” 

He flushed at Mark’s praise and finally met his eyes. His stomach churned at the concern on Mark’s face. He hated seeing that look on Mark’s face, knowing that he was the cause made him feel uneasy. He swallowed down the guilt he was feeling and straightened up, “can I try again?” 

The concern in Mark’s eyes was gone in an instant and a smile spread its way across his face.”That’s my Ethan.” 

Ethan’s mouth went dry at the sight and his eyes flickered down to Mark’s mouth. _What if I…_

Mark seemed to be the same wavelength because Ethan watched, unable to take his eyes off Mark as he swallowed, his tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip. Ethan’s eyes tracking the movement of his Adam’s apple. Almost in slow motion, Mark reached out and snaked a hand around his waist, pulling him in until they were flush against each other. Neither one of them said a word as they stared into each other’s eyes, slowly drifting closer together, almost like magnets. The constant humming of the TARDIS seemed to fade away, the only noise registering in his ears was his heartbeat and Mark’s anxious breathing. 

When Mark’s eyes flickered down to his mouth, Ethan couldn’t help himself anymore as he placed his hands on Mark’s hips, his pinkies slipping through the belt loops in Mark’s pants. Before he could second guess himself, he surged forward and pressed their mouths together. 

He hadn’t realized how far he had fallen for Mark until now. All the lingering glances, and soft touches. Mark was like an ocean and Ethan was drowning in him. Mark had seamlessly made himself at home in Ethan’s life and he couldn’t even imagine waking up without Mark next to him. His hair a mess and his voice gravelly with sleep. Not coming home after a day of shooting to Mark and the twins greeting him. Ethan knew he would do anything for Mark, all he had to do was ask and Ethan would do it without question.

All he could think of was _MarkMarkMark._ All he could smell was Mark’s soap. He could feel Mark’s fingertips digging into his side as Mark kissed him back. He couldn’t believe he had actually had the balls to do it, but Ethan couldn’t find it in himself to regret it when Mark slipped his hand under his shirt, the cool press of Mark’s hand a stark contrast to the heat of his body. He needed to feel more skin and blindly started pulling Mark’s shirt out from where he had it tucked in his pants and slipped his hands under to rest them on the hot skin of Mark’s sides.

After what felt like forever, Mark pulled back, both of them panting as they caught their breath. Ethan so caught up with how red Mark’s mouth was that he almost missed how dark his eyes were. Before he could say anything, Mark walked them back towards the console. His lower back bumped into the hard metal of the TARDIS console and before he knew it, Mark reached down and grabbed the back of his thighs. He lifted Ethan up like he weighed nothing and set him on the edge of the console, before his mouth was back on Ethan’s. 

Ethan couldn’t describe the feeling he had at the realization that Mark could handle him so easily. It made it easier to ignore the discomfort that came from sitting on so many buttons and switches. Instead he locked his ankles behind Mark’s waist and winded his hands into the long hair at the nape of Mark’s neck. Instinctively, he gripped Mark’s hair a little tighter than he meant to.

Mark growled into Ethan’s mouth in response and the grip he had on Ethan’s thighs tightened. Mark pressed closer towards him, pushing him back onto the console. In the back of his mind, he vaguely heard what sounded like the TARDIS taking off. The dull ache of the TARDIS controls the only thing that’s keeping him grounded from falling completely into Mark. 

It felt like they were there for hours. Time had stopped mattering to Ethan, especially in the TARDIS. But right now, he could spend the rest of his life here with Mark, re-learning each other’s bodies in this context and it wouldn’t be long enough. Eventually, the urgency cooled down and the kiss took a more languid pace. The rushed movements were replaced with gentle strokes down each other's sides and chest. 

Eventually, Ethan broke away and rested his forehead against Mark’s, lavishing in the giddiness that filled his chest. They both straightened up and Mark ran a soothing hand down Ethan’s spine, the lingering imprints of the TARDIS controls, a dull ache in his back. 

“Glad to know you feel the same way,” Mark joked, leaning in to give him a few quick kisses, his thumbs tracing patterns on Ethan’s thighs. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he confessed, “we’ve been toeing around each other for so long, like fucking ships in the night, and I couldn’t take it anymore. We literally share a bed, dude.” 

Mark grinned, “so you’re telling me that all I had to do was take us to plague-infected Italy and you would’ve kissed me sooner?” 

“Absolutely. I don’t know if you could tell, but I like you a lot, Mark.” 

Mark laughed and slid his hands back under Ethan’s thighs, lifting him off of the console before carefully setting him back down on the floor. “Lucky for you, I like you a lot too, Ethan.” 

“That’s pretty rad, not gonna lie,” he joked. 

The TARDIS suddenly jerked to the right and both Ethan and Mark fell to the floor at the sudden movement. 

“Mark what was that?” He asked bewildered. 

“I have no idea,” Mark hurried to get up just as the lights in the console room went out. The eerie red lighting of the emergency lights switching on. “I thought we were still in Portland!”

Ethan pulled himself to his feet as Mark started frantically messing with the controls. 

_“Mark?”_

“The electrical impulses are jammed,” Mark muttered before his eyes went wide, _“I can’t get the shields back up!”_

He watched, unsure of what to do as Mark struggled to flip a large lever on the console, “we’re completely vulnerable right now!”

Sparks shot out of the console and Mark flew back into the railing, the TARDIS groaning loudly. 

Mark bounced back up and kept circling the console, his hands a blur as he tried to figure out what was wrong with the TARDIS. 

“Ethan!” Mark shouted, “stay close to me!” 

Ethan didn’t need to be told twice, he hurried over and latched his hand onto the back of Mark’s shirt, trying to keep pace with Mark’s frantic actions. 

“Please tell me there’s a button you can press to fix this!” He shouted as the wheezing of the TARDIS got louder. 

“Oh yeah,” Mark barked back, “big, friendly button to keep us from crashing, right here!” 

An explosion happened behind them and Ethan felt sparks rain down his back. The TARDIS jerked back to the left and Ethan almost lost his footing with the erratic movement. 

Something rolled against his foot and Ethan looked down to see a baseball-sized metal object rolling around. He frowned and picked it up, quickly tossing it away when the metal seared his hand. 

He clutched his burning hand to his chest, his grip on Mark’s shirt slipping as the turbulence in the TARDIS got worse. 

He could vaguely hear Mark swearing over the chaos but he hardly had time to register it before another explosion went off that sent him and Mark flying over the edge of the railing. 

\--

**Unknown.**

Mark groaned and tried to sit up, his head pounding as he tried to remember what had happened. A heavy weight on his chest forced him to pry his eyes open. Through his blurry vision he managed to make out the thick internal cabling of the TARDIS spooled around him. 

A few feet away he could make out three men hunched together, talking in hushed voices. 

Mark pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the aches in his joints and stumbled over to them. 

“What’s with the whispering?” He announced, grabbing two of the men on the shoulders to cover his stumble. “I’m the Doctor, and you’ve just attacked my ship.” 

“W-we just found you drifting, mate,” the shorter man stuttered, refusing to make eye contact. 

“Your ship was damaged pretty bad,” the taller one lied. 

“Funny thing,” he started, baring his teeth, “what broke my ship was a magno-grab. _Your_ magno-grab.” 

He pushed the two men away and pulled out the small metal device that had burned Ethan’s hand and caused the TARDIS to shut down and shook it in their faces. “Then there’s this remote! Obviously yours, it’s calibrated to the magno-grab after all.” 

He let out a humourless laugh, “this device is outlawed across the galaxies. This little beast can disable entire vessels. Unless you have shield oscillators.” 

He pointed back towards the TARDIS, “which were temporarily turned off so I could show someone very close to me how to fly.” 

He tossed the remote up in the air repeatedly, glaring at the men. “So what you’re going to do, is you’re going to release the TARDIS and Ethan and we’ll be on our way.” 

“Who’s Ethan?” 

He rolled his eyes, _so they were gonna do it the hard way._

“I don’t have the patience to fuck around with you, let Ethan go.” 

“We don’t know what you’re talking about. We thought you were the only soul on board.” 

The hairs on the back of Mark’s neck stood up and his mouth went dry. “Where’s Ethan?”

He spun around and looked at the smoke that had started to pour out of the TARDIS. “Oh my god, he’s still inside! _Ethan!”_

Before he could take a step towards the TARDIS a hand was on his shoulder, “wait!” 

He spun around to see the man who had stayed quiet earlier giving him a grim look. 

“Your ship is leaking fuel, if there was anyone left inside, they’re dead.” 

Mark swallowed down the terror that filled his chest and quickly scanned the room. His eyes landed on respirators and he hurried to grab one for himself. “Put these on, you’re helping me get him out.” 

“We should be able to open the doors for a second to pull him out.” 

Mark snorted at their naivety, “trust me, that won’t happen.” 

“What’s in it for us?” The short one asked. 

“You can have the machine,” he lied, knowing what the scavengers wanted. “Everything that’s inside is yours if we get Ethan out alive.” 

The taller one laughed, “that’s barely four feet of metal.” 

“This ship will be the best haul of your lives,” he barked back, “it’s the salvage of a lifetime. Just help me save Ethan.” 

\--

Ethan woke suddenly to the loud gonging of the TARDIS. The red emergency lights were still flashing and his whole body was sore. He grimaced as he tried to sit up, shoving aside the large metal panel that had fallen on his legs. 

“Mark?” 

He pushed himself up and brushed off the metal debris and dust that had covered him. He flinched as pain flared from his left hand and looked down to see the blistered skin of his palm. 

“Mark?” He said a little louder. 

He started cautiously down the hallway, keeping a lookout for any signs of Mark and frowned at the amount of debris on the floor. He stopped in his tracks when the TARDIS didn’t automatically open up a door for him. The light above the door was flashing red and he didn’t know if it was red because there was something dangerous on the other side, or because the TARDIS had crashed. Against his better judgement, he pressed his good hand against the scanner on the door and waited patiently while it read his handprint. 

A split second before the doors opened, Ethan got a wave of heat from the crack between the doors and he frantically stepped back, just in time to see a large inferno on the other side of the doors. 

He sprinted down the hallway and barely managed to tuck behind an alcove, the wall of flame whooshing by, the tips of his hair getting singed. One he was sure it was safe, he peaked around the corner and hurried back the way he came. He had no idea how he was going to find Mark in this mess. 

\--

Mark glared at the three men from underneath his goggles and respirator as he tried to unlock the TARDIS. The three of them had been bickering with one another and Mark wasn’t a fan of their attitudes. He didn’t trust any of them for a second, he just needed them long enough to get Ethan out. 

Once the door was open, smoke billowed out in clouds and he couldn’t help but grimace, this wasn’t going to be easy. 

He stepped inside and surveyed the damage in the console room. It was extensive, but he could fix it. 

“I don’t understand, the ship was laying on its side. How is it the right way up?” 

“The TARDIS has its own gravity, I’d explain it to you if I had the patience.” He muttered, trying to get the console active. 

“It’s - it’s so…” 

“Yeah, big on the inside, I know.” 

He kept the three men in his vision range and hoped there was enough power left in the console to kickstart the air filtration system. 

Soon enough, a loud whirring filled the air and he watched as the toxic smoke was quickly sucked out of the air and into the filtration system. He ripped off his respirator and took out his sonic, waving it around. 

“Come on, Eth. You were right here, where’d you go?” 

“How big is this thing?” The taller scavenger asked, kicking at the console. 

Mark resisted the urge to shout at the man’s careless attitude towards his TARDIS and scowled instead. “Picture the biggest ship you’ve ever seen. Are you picturing it?” 

The man nodded. 

“Then forget about it, because this ship is infinite.” 

“It’ll take you hours to find the boy,” the man chuckled, leaning carelessly against the console. 

“Days actually. Maybe weeks. He might be dead by the time I find him, the rest of the TARDIS is toxic. But fuck me if I let him die on my watch.” He said cooly, typing commands into the console. “So here’s the mission. We have one hour to find Ethan.” 

“I’m sorry, _we?_ That wasn’t part of the deal!” 

He laughed darkly, snapping his fingers to lock the doors. “It is now.”

“What makes you think we’ll help you?” 

“You have no choice,” He typed in the final command for the self-destruct protocol and activated it, a large timer counting down appeared on all the monitors. “I’ve just activated the self-destruct protocol and put the TARDIS in lockdown. Either you help me find Ethan, or you die. Those doors don’t open until Ethan’s in my arms again.” 

“You’re fucking mad!” 

_“My ship, my rules!”_ He snarled, spinning around to face the three men. “This is what happens when you get into a spaceship with a mad man. Didn’t your mothers warn you about people like me?” 

“You’ll kill us all!” 

“Better get looking for Ethan then!” 

Mark watched with disdain as the three men tried desperately to pry the doors open. He knew it was a fruitless endeavor and gently rubbed his hand across the console in a soothing motion to try and reassure the TARDIS. “Was I not clear enough? How about thirty minutes?” 

He snapped his fingers and the timer dropped down to a half hour. “I hope you work better under pressure.” 

When that didn’t get the men moving he huffed, his patience running out, “anyone want to try fifteen minutes?” 

That got the men moving, as soon as he raised his hand to snap his fingers they all charged towards him. 

“The only time you’re wasting is your own. How does it feel knowing that the end of your life is right there where you can see it. Ticking ever closer and closer.” He clasped his hands in front of him, “ _salvage of a lifetime!_ Ha! You were talking about the ship. Well, I was talking about Ethan.” 

Without waiting a beat he turned on his heel and started down one of the hallways, a satisfied grin on his face when he heard the mens footsteps hurry after him. He let his sonic guide the way, hoping it would pick up on Ethan’s lifeforce. 

_He couldn’t lose Ethan, not after what had happened earlier._

“Maybe we should split up,” one of the men suggested, “if this thing is infinite, it might give us a better chance at finding the boy right?” 

Mark rolled the idea around in his head and quickly weighed the pros and cons before realizing that the man was right. 

“Don’t touch anything,” he warned, “the TARDIS will get angry.” 

The men nodded and two of them took off, leaving Mark with the quiet one. 

As he walked down the hallway in silence with the other man, he let his fingers run against the walls, _don’t let them hurt you. Do what you have to in order to protect yourself._ He hoped his connection with the TARDIS was strong enough for it to pick up on his message. A weak wheeze was all the confirmation that he needed before carrying on. 

\--

Ethan ran down the endless maze of hallways. He felt like his mind was playing tricks on him. There was something after him, something not friendly. He hadn’t seen it yet, but it was lurking in the corners of his vision. So he kept running, hoping to find something familiar, like his room or Marks. But every hallway showed him places of the TARDIS he had never seen before. He hurried into a room with a grand entrance and stopped in his tracks at the multi-level library that he had run into. 

“What a showoff,” he muttered, blowing gently on his hand to try and cool the sting of his burn.

A loud growl had him freezing in place and peaking out around the bookshelf to see a humanoid figure staggering around in the entryway. 

As quietly as he could, he made his way towards a staircase and slowly made his way up the stairs. At the top of the staircase, he peeked over the edge to see the creature had stumbled its way in and was looking around. 

Unsure of what he should do, Ethan went deeper into the rows and rows of books until he had lost track of where he had come in from. A light source suddenly appeared out of the corner of his eye and he was shocked to find a large wooden desk and fireplace in such a dark corner of the library. 

He cautiously approached it and found it covered in books and loose papers. A tiny wooden model of the TARDIS sat on top of the desk and Ethan picked it up, feeling the details in the wood under his finger tips. The blue paint had faded over time, but it was still something Ethan wanted to add to his collection of nicknacks. 

He scanned his eyes over the contents of the desk, there wasn’t any obvious dust, so Mark must’ve been here recently. Whatever language Mark had been writing it, it wasn’t anything from earth. The symbols looked similar enough to Ethan and he was surprised that the TARDIS hadn’t translated it for him already. But maybe with the ship being out of commission, the TARDIS couldn’t translate for him. 

Or maybe Mark didn’t want this translated. 

Ethan decided to leave the pages alone and instead sat down in the antique looking leather desk chair. He held his hand under the desk lamp to try and get a better look at his burn. He frowned when he flexed his palm and the burn started looking like writing for a brief second. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes with his good hand. When he stared back at his hand, the burn had remained unchanged. 

A guttural growl had him shooting up right, frantically looking around for the creature and almost passed out when he saw the dim silhouette of the creature standing at the top of the staircase. He quickly turned off the desk lamp and curled up under the desk, pulling the chair in as close as he could get it to himself. 

He pulled his hoodie over his nose and mouth so the creature couldn’t hear his panicked breathing and tried to calm himself down as he strained his ears to hear any movement. 

Soon enough he heard a shuffling sound followed by books falling to the floor. He curled up as small as he could get and pulled his hood up, hoping the black fabric would help him hide better. 

Something hit the desk and Ethan had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep himself from screaming. Paper’s fluttered down onto the chair and Ethan could hardly hear anything over the blood roaring in his ears. 

A humanoid foot appeared next to the chair and Ethan squinted in the dark as the creature’s scaly skin gave off some kind of light source. It looked burned and charred and Ethan had no idea how this monster had gotten in the TARDIS in the first place. But he hoped to god it wasn’t smart enough to look under the desk. 

He held his breath as he waited what felt like forever for the creature to leave. Eventually it did start to stumble back the way it came. Ethan placed his good hand over his chest and let himself relax. He breathed out a quiet breath and let his head fall back against the wall of the desk. 

He waited for a good five minutes before he slowly pushed the chair back and poked his head out. He couldn’t see the creature anywhere and couldn’t hear any noises besides the hum of the TARDIS. 

He carefully pulled himself out from underneath the desk and retraced his steps back to the staircase. He tiptoed down the stairs and carefully looked down each end of the hallway before leaving the library, the little TARDIS held tightly to his chest. 

\--

A pained wheeze from the TARDIS had Mark stopped in his tracks, the other man, who had refused to tell Mark his name, almost running into him. 

Mark hadn’t heard the TARDIS make a noise like that in a long time. He didn’t like the uneasy feeling he was getting and pressed his hand against the wall before the TARDIS wheezed again, this time Mark could sense the anger in the ship. 

“We need to get to the Arch recon room immediately.” 

He quickened his pace and expertly weaved his way through hallways, not caring if the other man got lost. 

Mark found the room he was looking for much faster than he should’ve. The distress that the TARDIS was in must have been so great it created a shortcut for him to get there faster. 

He almost growled out loud as he saw one of the scavengers pulling off a crystal from the architectural reconfiguration system. 

_“What do you think you’re doing?”_ He demanded, storming into the room, startling the man. “Don’t touch these, the TARDIS won’t let you.” He cradled one of the hanging crystals in his hands and felt the dull pulse of the TARDIS in his fingertips. “It’s going to have a tantrum soon.” 

“What the hell is this place?” 

“It reconstructs things according to your needs.” 

The man laughed in disbelief, “a machine that makes machines?” 

“Yes.” Mark stroked the crystal in his hands. 

The man ignored him and yanked the crystal out of its holder, the TARDIS shrieked in anger as the whole room went pitch black. Mark could feel the pain it was in and for once in his life, he didn’t know how to make things better without returning the crystal. 

“You’re insane. The TARDIS won’t let you leave with that. We only have so much time left, are you really going to spend it doing this?” 

The lights flickered back on and Mark felt a small bit of satisfaction that the TARDIS had removed the door to the room, trying to protect itself from these monsters. 

“Ever seen a spaceship with an attitude?” He mused. “It won’t let that crystal out of here. It’s part of the TARDIS’s basic genetic material.” 

“Blow it up.” The man commanded. 

“Are you insane?” The quiet man gasped, “can’t you feel the torment you’ve just put this ship through?” 

The smaller man pulled out an explosive and Mark let out a disappointed breath when the door reappeared. 

“What’s the matter, TARDIS?” The man gawked, “scared to fight me?” 

He banged his fist against the wall, “ _Ever seen a ship with an attitude?_ This ship ain’t shit.” 

He walked out of the room, carelessly tossing the crystal up like it was a football. Mark grimaced each time and gave a nearby crystal a quick stroke before following to make sure nothing else was ruined. 

Mark quickly caught onto the TARDIS defense strategy the third time they had walked the circuit it had created for them. 

“We’re just going in circles!” The shorter man complained.

“You're in it’s maze,” he said cooly, “we’re never going to get to Ethan in time while you have that crystal.” 

He watched with thinly concealed annoyance as the man took off in the opposite direction, only to appear behind them almost instantly. “What’s the point of building walls when you can break them down? You might think you’ve outsmarted the TARDIS, but it is five steps ahead of you. Not to brag, but Time Lords are much smarter than you think we are.” 

He held out his hand, “if you want out of here, give me that crystal. That’s the key to escaping this labyrinth.” 

\--

Ethan quickly looked over his shoulder at a loud crashing noise. His eyes widened as a large monster came barreling down the hallway towards him. He almost tripped over his feet as he started sprinting down the hallway, taking quick turns in order to get more space between him and the monster. 

Another glance over his shoulder had him gasping at the realization that he was being chased by a giant version of Benjamin. The large chip in the gargoyle’s wing from where the little guy had fallen off his bedside table a dead giveaway. 

He had to block out Mark’s voice warning him about _living stone_ as the normally soothing sound of Benjamin’s wings flapping was like nails on a chalkboard. 

He heard the sound of a doorway whooshing open and he quickly skidded to a stop, backtracking quickly, to see the console room at the end of the hallway. Benjamin had caught up with him quicker than he had anticipated and Ethan ducked to avoid being shredded by the gargoyle’s stone claws. 

He barely made it into the console room in time, the doors slamming shut behind him. He heard the smash of stone against metal and turned around to see dents in the door where Benjamin had collided. 

Ethan sighed in relief and went to climb the stairs up to the console and froze. He was in the console room, but not the one he was used to. This console room was all on one level, instead of elevated. The walls weren’t gunmetal grey. In their place was a bronze interior with holes in the walls. He cautiously approached the console and was shocked when even that was different. Instead of the sharp edges it was rounded and smooth. 

Ethan flinched when he heard a door open and froze when he heard Mark’s laugh. The relief he felt was like jumping into a lake on a hot summer day. All he wanted to do was kiss Mark and then kill him for getting them into this mess. 

A cool wind passed through him and Ethan gasped when a man in his mid-twenties walked right through him like he wasn’t there. 

Another man followed and soon enough, Mark passed through him as well. But not Ethan’s Mark. 

This Mark was years younger, and had a flaming head of red hair. Ethan gawked at Mark, dressed in a large grey cardigan and pajama pants. This Mark was so laid back and carefree, almost a complete opposite of his Mark. He assumed the two men were Bob and Wade, based off of Mark’s description of the two of them. 

The TARDIS must’ve been leaking time energy, or whatever Mark called it and was showing him a part of Mark’s past. 

He was enraptured by the difference in Mark’s body language with the men he considered to be his family. But every so often, hints of his Mark would appear. In his smile, his laugh and the casual ways he made it clear he cared about his friends. 

He couldn’t really make out what they were saying, the words sounding like he was underwater, but their laughs rang through clearly. He followed them as they headed out the doors of the TARDIS and stopped when he realized he had been brought into a console room that resembled the one he knew. 

The doors opened and Mark appeared in Victorian clothes. Ethan’s whole body froze when he saw who was following Mark. Himself. 

The wooden TARDIS slipped from his grip and smashed to the floor, the light on top breaking off and scattering away. 

Ethan was staring back at himself. A Victorian version of himself, dressed up and hair slicked back. 

_“Being a nanny? Isn’t that a bit, Victorian?”_

_Victorian._

Mark’s voice echoed through his head as he watched the scene in front of him unfold in slow motion. This version of Mark, so proud to show this Ethan this spaceship that he knew would blow the mind of a man who had barely experienced electricity. 

_“It’s called the TARDIS,”_ Mark’s voice echoed around his skull, _“it can travel anywhere in time and space. And it’s mine.”_

He watched in horror, tears forming in the corner of his eyes as Mark flirted with this version of himself. When Mark placed his hands so delicately on the imposter's hips the tears started falling. He felt numb when he watched an ice lady crawl inside the open TARDIS doors and rip the other Ethan out of Mark’s grasp. 

Mark’s scream was seared in his brain. The pain in his voice as he called after the man who had his face and name. 

All of a sudden, Mark’s hoodie felt like it was choking him. The lingering scent of Mark’s cologne was a poison in his lungs. He didn’t know how to react, he didn’t know what to think. He just felt betrayed and heartbroken that he had just been another replacement for the man Mark had just lost. 

He was a ghost after all. All the instances where Mark stopped and stared at him as if he couldn’t believe Ethan was real. 

He had to sit down, his heart felt like it was shattered, each breath another dagger to his chest. 

He curled up under the console and yanked Mark’s hoodie off, tossing it as far away as he could get it. He balled his hands in his hair and yanked, trying to find a source of pain that would relieve his heartbreak. The dams finally burst and Ethan released all the pain that had built up in his chest, and he sobbed. 

“Eth?” 

\--

A loud scream echoed down the hallway and Mark didn’t even flinch, knowing the TARDIS was starting to take its revenge on the invaders. The other two jumped and frantically looked around for the source of the noise. 

“What was that?” 

“I think your friend is dead.” Is all he said, arms crossed over his chest. “The TARDIS doesn’t take too kindly to viruses.” 

He held out his sonic and grimaced when he received news of lifeforms rapidly approaching. “Fellas, I have bad news. There’s something coming our way and they aren’t friendly.” 

Mark spun around two see two conjoined humanoid figures staggering towards them. “Fucking run!” 

The smaller man shouted and shoved the quiet man in front of the creature, before sprinting away down a hallway. “We have to stay together, you idiot!” Mark shouted after him, dodging a hit from the monster, “follow me!” 

Mark ran as fast as he could, hoping that the quiet man was following behind him. He criss-crossed his way down hallways until he couldn’t hear the creatures anymore. 

He stopped to catch his breath and heard the muffled sound of voices. He followed the sound and saw Ethan’s silhouette in an echo the TARDIS created of the console room, to keep him safe. 

He hurried down the hallway and froze when he realized what was happening. Ethan wasn’t in an echo, the TARDIS was leaking time energy and Ethan had found a memory. One that Mark had tried desperately to keep from him. 

He watched in horror as Ethan watched him with Victorian Ethan. He could tell from the way that Ethan was shaking that he was crying. His whole body went cold and it felt like his hearts stopped. He had no idea how he was going to explain this to Ethan. 

He desperately wanted to reach out and hold Ethan while he cried, to try and mend things before they became irreversible. But he was rooted to the spot. It wasn’t until he watched Ethan stagger over to the console and curl up under it that his feet started to move again. 

He made a wounded sound when Ethan threw away his hoodie, knowing how much Ethan loved to wear his clothes. Mark almost started sobbing with Ethan as he climbed the stairs to the console. The tiny TARDIS he kept on his desk in the library was in pieces on the floor. Somewhere in the back of Mark's mind he found the symbolism ironic. 

“Eth?” 

Ethan flinched at his voice and glared at him through his red-rimmed eyes, but didn’t say a word. 

“Please Ethan, let me explain.” He begged, falling to his knees in front of him. 

“Explain what?” Ethan hiccupped, “that you’ve been lying to me this entire time?” 

“No,” he made a wounded noise, “that’s not true!” 

_“Don’t fucking lie to me, Mark! Not after what I just saw! He had my face, my name, my voice!”_ Ethan used the collar of his t-shirt to wipe his nose, “I saw the way you looked at him.” 

“We’ve met before,” he confessed knowing there was no turning back. He sat cross-legged in front of Ethan, “the first time was on Gallifrey.” He was trying hard to keep his voice steady, but the pain on Ethan’s face was unbearable, especially knowing it was his fault. “I was trying to run away and this boy appeared out of nowhere, and he told me which TARDIS to take… and he was you, Ethan. He had your face and _god,_ he even had your eyes.” 

Ethan shook his head and covered his ears, “you’re wrong. The first time we met you showed up at my door dressed like a fucking monk.” 

“The next time I met you was on the Dalek Asylum. I was with Bob and Wade and we had to rescue this boy, _E. Nestor Darling_ , his ship had crashed and I promised I would save him. I never saw his face, he had already been turned into a Dalek, but Ethan he had your voice. He died saving my life.” 

Ethan wailed and buried his face in his knees, “You’re crazy. I’m just dreaming. Please I want to wake up next to you and have this be a nightmare.” 

“The third time was in Victorian London,” Mark had to clear his throat as his voice cracked. “His name was Ethan Nestor Darling, he was a bartender and a governor for a wealthy family. He didn’t put up with my shit and… well, you just watched him die. I couldn’t save him.” 

“I hate you.” Ethan muttered, stabbing Mark right in the heart. “You lied to me, you promised me you weren’t chasing ghosts. Yet here I am, the ghost of a ghost of a ghost.” 

“Ethan no…” 

“Then what is it, Mark?” He hissed, anger such a foreign sound coming from Ethan. “How could all of those people be me? I’m just a guy from Maine! I’ve never even left my state before, how the fuck could I be on Gallifrey? A place I didn’t even know existed until I met you!” 

“I don’t know!” He confessed, “all I know is that they were all you. Same face, same voice, same Ethan!” 

“Take me home. Take me home, right fucking now. I never want to see you again!” 

“Ethan please, I can explain. After all we’ve been through, you have to know how much you mean to me!” 

Ethan barked out a laugh, “how can I ever trust you again? Our entire relationship has been a lie!” 

“Don’t say that,” he pleaded, “how was I supposed to tell you? I don’t even understand what’s happening. How could I have met the same guy so many times?”

Ethan wiped aggressively at his eyes and Mark winced at how hard he pressed his palms into his eye sockets. 

“Just trust me long enough to get you safe and then… then I’ll take you home. Please Ethan.” 

Ethan nodded his head and moved to stand up, “get me home and then get the hell away from me.” 

Mark pressed his mouth together in a tight line and offered a hand to help Ethan up. The glare he received felt like a burn to his skin and he let it fall limp at his side, unused to the distance that Ethan was putting between the two of them. 

“You must be Ethan!” The smaller scavenger man announced, strutting into the room with the quiet one in tow, _“salvage of a lifetime alright!”_

Mark flushed with embarrassment. Had they found Ethen under better circumstances he would flirt with him over it, maybe even kiss him after this morning. But all of that was gone, because Mark was an idiot. 

“Now keep up your end of the bargain, Doctor! Cancel the self-destruct!” 

“Self-destruct!” Ethan hissed, glaring at him, “what have you done?” 

“There isn’t one,” he said flatly. “I lied.”

“So we’re safe?” 

“From exploding, but there’s still the zombie creatures and the possibility of getting lost in the TARDIS labyrinths.” 

He leaned against the console and glanced at the monitor, doing a double-take at the engine failure alert that flashed across the screen. “Fuck me. The engine’s damaged.” 

“Of course it is,” Ethan grumbled from his perch on the railing, “nothing is ever straightforward with you.” 

He hurried away from the console and towards one of the hexagon panels on the wall, pushing it open, “we need to fix it or we’re dead. We need to go to the centre of the TARDIS.” 

He climbed through the hole in the wall to the hallway on the other side, Ethan close behind, followed by the two scavengers. Once they were all through, he took out his sonic and let it lead him to where they needed to be. 

A guttural groan echoed around them and he saw the way Ethan flinched out of the corner of his eye. He had to force his arm to stop from reaching out to grab his hand. 

“It’s those things,” the smaller scavenger hissed, “they’ve followed us in here.” 

“What are those things, Mark?” Ethan asked, “what else have you been keeping from me?” 

“Somethings are worth keeping secrets over,” he grumbled, causing Ethan to roll his eyes. 

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and shouted when he saw one of the creatures running towards them. 

“Everyone run!” He shouted. 

\-- 

Ethan didn’t realize he had lost Mark and the others until he ran into a dead end. The burn on his hand was getting worse and he glanced down, the blistering was gruesome . He still swore the burn was spelling something out to him. 

_B.. FR..ND.Y .UT..N_

He frowned at his hand and jumped when he heard his own voice. 

His heart pounded so hard in his chest, afraid that he had found another copy of himself that Mark was hiding from him. He couldn’t handle anymore heartbreak today. 

Mark’s voice bounced off the walls of the TARDIS. _“Ethan, stay close to me!”_

_“Please tell me there’s a button you can press to fix this!”_

_“Oh yeah, big friendly button!”_

He spun around trying to find where the voices were coming from. It was an echo from earlier, he just didn’t understand why it was happening. He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts before he started towards where he had heard their voices. 

He ran right into Mark and frowned when his presence wasn’t acknowledged. 

“Mark?” He snapped his fingers in front of Mark’s face. Mark’s confused expression didn’t change and he kept wringing his hands together like he was unsure of what to do. His eyes were vacant and Ethan waved his hand in front of him, “Mark are you ok?” 

“Ethan!” 

He spun around and his eyes widened when another Mark appeared behind him, his hand held out cautiously. “Stay away from him, that isn’t me! There’s a rift in time somewhere on board. Time is leaking all over the place. It must have happened when we were pulled in by the salvage vessel.” 

The second Mark grabbed his hand and started pulling him away from his duplicate, who was staggering around in a daze. 

“The past is leaking, mine and yours. Everything we’ve done or said. It isn’t real, it’s all memories.” 

Ethan blindly followed Mark through the dark hallways, very aware of the way the hair on his neck was starting to stand on end. 

Mark suddenly stopped and pushed Ethan behind him, a large zombie wandering around at the end of the hallway. 

“Is that one real?” He asked, instinctually grabbing onto the back of Mark’s shirt. 

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that one is real. _Run.”_

The two of them ran back the way they came, the angry snarls and hisses of the zombie rapidly catching up to them. 

Mark pulled him into an alcove and pushed him against the wall, keeping his arm across his chest protectively. Mark put a finger to his mouth and Ethan didn’t need to be told twice as he chewed nervously at his lip. 

He could hear their voices bouncing around the walls again, this time it was the argument they had had during breakfast about whether or not to put a third blanket on the bed because Ethan had been cold the last few nights. It was so painfully domestic that it made Ethan’s stomach twist. 

They both heard the zombie rush towards the noise and Mark quickly grabbed his hand and guided him down a dark hallway, full of loud clanging sounds. “We’re right under the primary fuel cells.” 

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“So - so, all the fuel has spilled out and the rods are exposed which means no coolant -” 

“- so the rods are getting hotter -” 

“- they might even ex-” 

_“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!”_ He hissed. 

“They might even explode.” 

A loud creak had the two of them jumping back as a fuel rod burst off the wall with a loud hiss. 

The two of them looked at each other for a brief second before they ran back the way they had come, dodging out of the way as more rods burst through the walls and from the ceiling. 

They heard a loud scream from down the hallway and hurried ahead to find that one of the rods had impaled one of the scavengers, the other trying to pry it out of the wall. Ethan flinched at the sight and stepped behind Mark to avoid seeing the injury. 

“Jesus Christ,” Mark muttered, “cut the metal, leave the rod in. If you pull it out, he’ll bleed to death.” 

A hiss from behind them had Ethan’s blood go cold, he looked over his shoulder and saw that the zombie was standing a few feet away. Before he could even move, Mark shoved the scavenger towards the zombie and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the hatch door at the end of the hallway. 

“Mark you just killed them!” He screamed, keeping his eyes forward as he heard screaming behind them. 

“I did it to keep you safe! I don’t care about them, I care about getting you out of this alive!” 

“But - but,” he stammered, stunned by the lack of hesitation in Mark’s actions. 

“I won’t apologize for keeping you safe. I’ve done much worse for less. You’re my only priority right now.” 

They stopped in front of the door and Mark looked into the thick glass window, an orange light cast across his face. “This is the power core. We can’t stay there for too long. Our cells will start to liquidate. We get in, fix the problem and then get out.” 

He nodded and watched as Mark typed in the commands to open the door to the power core. The door opened with a hiss and a wave of heat hit him. Mark ushered him inside and he felt the harsh wind of the core burning against his skin. They ran towards the next set of doors and tried to force it open against the intense wind. 

Once they got the door open, the angry wheezing of the TARDIS hurt his ears and he stopped and stared at the angry red core. 

“That’s the Eye of Harmony,” Mark shouted over the wind. “It’s slowly becoming a black hole!” 

“Well that’s a bit of a problem, isn’t it!” He chirped back. 

“It’s Time Lord engineering. You rip the star out of its orbit and harness the energy that comes from its permanent state of decay!”

A zombie punched through the glass window of the door and started flailing its arm towards them. 

“Mark, you’re going to tell me right now what those things are!” 

“I can’t!” 

His jaw clenched in frustration, “we’re about to die and you really aren't going to tell me what’s about to kill me? Is now really the time for secrets?” 

Mark crowed into his space and placed both of his hands on Ethan’s face, “listen to me when I tell you that secrets keep you safe.” 

He laughed bitterly, “I see how well keeping secrets has worked for you. Can’t you see that we aren’t safe?”

He swiped angrily at his eyes, deciding that he wasn’t going to die without knowing everything. “How many more of me are you hiding? How many times are you going to hurt me?” 

Mark refused to meet his eyes and Ethan could see how tightly he was clenching his jaw. 

“Mark!” 

“It’s you!” Mark yelled, pushing the hair out of his face as the wind whipped around them. 

“What?” 

Mark gestured towards the zombie, “I’m sorry, Ethan. That was you. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” 

Ethan felt a hollowness in his chest, similar to the way he felt when he and Mark had traveled the lifespan of the earth and he had stared out into the burning remains of the earth. He stared back at the zombie and looked closer. It was about his height and weight. It had a similar stride to him. But what really made him feel numb was the melted remains of his medical alert bracelet, seared into the zombie’s left wrist. 

“I burn in here?” He mumbled, feeling his knees wobble. 

Mark had the decency to at least look remorseful. “The TARDIS isn’t just leaking the past, we’re in a time rift. It’s leaking the future as well.” 

Mark pulled him into his chest and Ethan numbly fell into him, unable to push him away. He felt overwhelmed with all that had happened today. The whiplash that Mark had put him through was anguishing. 

“I brought you here to keep you safe. But it happened again. You died again.” 

Ethan shook his head, unwilling to listen to Mark talk about the other Ethans. “Please don’t!” 

“Ethan, I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I’ve traveled time and space to find you and I can’t lose you again.” 

He wailed loudly against Mark’s chest, weakly fighting against Mark’s hold, wanting to get away. 

“But I love _you,_ not any of the others. As far as I’m concerned, they led me to you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s one of the biggest regrets of my life. I was selfish and arrogant to think that I could keep that from you. Please, forgive me?” 

Ethan blinked through the tears as Mark’s words filtered through his head. He knew that he loved Mark. He’d loved Mark for so long now. The pain in his chest was proof enough. “If we make it out of here alive, I’ll forgive you.” 

Mark laughed in disbelief and kissed the top of his head. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll get us out of here, I promise. We just have to get to the heart of the TARDIS!” 

“How do we do that?” 

Mark let him go and clutched at his hand, tangling his sweaty fingers with Ethan’s. “The TARDIS has to let us in. Can’t you hear it screaming?” 

A rush of hot air hit his face and it forced him to close his eyes and shield himself from the heatwave. 

“Ethan, there’s a door!” 

He felt Mark tug on his hand and he blindly followed, his eyes burning with the heat. 

If they made it out of this alive, he was going to need to nap for a week because of how exhausted he was from all the adrenaline and emotional whiplash. 

He heard the screech of metal grinding and his lungs filled with the familiar salty air of the East Coast. 

He carefully opened his eyes and was shocked to see the familiar Maine coastline. “Are we home?” 

Mark shook his head, “no the TARDIS is projecting. It’s trying to protect itself by taking us somewhere familiar, so we won’t be as hostile.” 

“But, where’s the engine?” 

“The TARDIS is hiding it somewhere we won’t want to go. I think we need to jump off the cliff.” 

He felt a wave of calm wash over him as he nodded his head, “ok.” 

Mark looked at him, incredulous, “really? You’re totally fine with jumping off a cliff?” 

Ethan gripped Mark’s hand tighter, anchoring himself as he took in a deep breath, “it’s a better way to die than becoming a zombie. Are you ready?” 

Mark nodded and squeezed his hand, “let’s go.” 

The two of them approached the cliffside and looked at each other. Ethan took in a shaky breath, “promise me we won’t die doing this?” 

“If I’m right, we shouldn’t.” 

“That wasn’t as reassuring as you think.” 

He saw the way Mark rolled his eyes out of the corner of his eyes, “we jump together.” 

Ethan felt the sensation of falling for less than a minute before the rapidly approaching ocean below melted into an endless white room, ground suddenly appearing under his feet. Pieces of shredded metal were suspended in the air and Mark gasped, the sound muffled. 

“The heart of the TARDIS. The engine’s already exploded.” 

He watched as Mark pressed his mouth into a thin line, his face going carefully blank. “The TARDIS froze the force of the blast. Eventually this whole place will explode. I - I can’t save it.” 

Tears appeared in Mark’s eyes and Ethan pulled him into a hug, Mark staggering into him as he kept staring at the remains of the TARDIS. “It’s been me and the TARDIS since day one. It’s always been there for me, taken care of me. Now it needs me and I can’t help.” 

Ethan’s hand flared with pain and he let Mark go as he tried to shake the pain away. He held his hand out and gasped as the blistering of his burn had finally become legible. 

Mark grabbed at his palm, “oh my god, Ethan!” 

_BIG FRIENDLY BUTTON_

Mark let his hand go and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling him in to kiss him hard. 

Ethan fell into him easily, kissing him back with an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm. Ethan felt whole again, as he desperately tried to pull Mark as close to him as possible. They couldn’t be close enough as they grabbed at each other’s clothes and their teeth clinked together in their haste and aggression. 

They pulled apart and Mark grabbed his sonic, waving it around until he picked up on what he was looking for. “I told you I would get you out of here. We just need to find the exact moment when the TARDIS crashed!” 

It didn’t take long for the sonic to find the signal it was looking for. The console room materialized in front of them and Mark jumped over the railing to the lower level, shouting out in satisfaction, “there it is! The time rift!” 

An angry white crack was slowly creeping up the lower wall of the TARDIS. 

“Leaking the past, but not the future, yet.” Mark picked up the object that had burned Ethan’s hand and waved his sonic at it. 

“How are we going to fix it?” 

Mark’s brow furrowed in concentration as the object started to smoke, “I’m going to rewrite today.” 

As soon as Mark finished messing with the object he looked inside the crack and quickly tossed it inside. The last thing Ethan remembered was the TARDIS wheezing to life before everything faded to white. 

\--

Mark sat up with a start and quickly scanned his surroundings. He was in the console room, all the damage repaired as the TARDIS quietly hummed. His hearts pounded as he looked around in disbelief. _He had done it_. He had prevented that timeline from existing. 

He spotted the soles of Ethan’s shoes poking out from underneath the console and gasped, “Ethan!” 

He crawled over to Ethan’s unconscious body and tapped his cheek gently, “Ethan, wake up, bub.” 

Ethan’s eyelashes fluttered and he hummed, tilting his face towards where Mark was stroking his face. Ethan cracked his eyes open a sliver before they snapped open and Ethan shot up. His hands roamed down his chest before he held his palm in front of his face, “you fucking did it, Mark!” 

He waved the bare flesh of his palm in Mark’s face before he threw his arms around Mark’s neck. He wrapped his arms around Ethan’s waste and buried his nose in his neck, trying to remember every detail about how Ethan’s body felt pressed against his. 

“Do you-,” Mark cleared the lump in his throat, “do you still want me to take you home?”

Ethan’s demand was still fresh in his mind and despite the affection he had been receiving from Ethan since then, being in a near death situation tends to have an impact on people’s actions. 

Ethan went still in his arms and let him go. Mark quickly did the same and felt the last little bit of hope in him die at Ethan’s neutral face. 

“You betrayed my trust, Mark.” Ethan said, fiddling with his hands, “like it was really fucked up what you did. I told you I wasn’t a replacement for anyone and I find out that I’m just a replacement for _myself.”_

Mark winced but let Ethan continue. 

“When I saw that I felt like I was dying. Knowing that you kept something so big from me, that technically involves me really made me think about leaving.” 

“Ethan, please, let me explain,” he begged. 

He shut up when Ethan held up his hand, “let me finish. I wanted to leave, I really did. I wanted to get the hell out of this box and never see you again.” 

Ethan placed his hand on Mark’s knee and sighed, “but as much as my head is telling me I should leave, or take a break from you, or whatever. I can’t. I can’t fucking leave because I love you.” 

Mark’s head snapped up and he stared at Ethan with wide eyes, his mouth wide.

“I’m not going to lie, you really hurt me and we’re not going to just go on like this didn’t happen. If I’m going to stay, no more secrets Mark. I don’t care how small, we tell each other everything.” 

He felt like he couldn’t nod his head fast enough as he grasped at Ethan’s hand, “Ethan, I promise I’ll make it up to you. No more secrets, you deserve better than that. I was an asshole and I was wrong. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back, I'm so sorry.” 

"You and I are going to have a long conversation about everything that you've been keeping from me ok? I think that's a good place to start." 

Mark nodded his head in acknowledgement, desperate to start on the path towards mending their relationship, "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. I'm not sure exactly what's going on myself. But whatever I know, you'll know." 

Ethan gave him a small smile and cocked his head to the side, “can’t wait to tell my parents that I fell in love with a crazy alien who lives in a box.” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw// 
> 
> there's some mentions of death, plague bodies and the methods that were used to dispose of the bodies  
> there's also a major injury to a secondary character, but it isn't described graphically


	10. The Doctor Shall Not Go To Trenzalore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here we are. the final chapter. writing this fic has been such a fun challenge for me and I really hope you all enjoyed reading it. <3 
> 
> as always pls check out the cws at the bottom of the fic I should've got them all but pls let me know if i need to add anything :)

**London, England, 1893.**

“Thank you for agreeing to this meeting, Detective McLoughlin. I’m told you’re the best to seek out to investigate strange goings on.” 

Sean nodded his head and sat up straighter in his chair, gesturing to the newspaper on the table in front of them, “I heard of your brother’s tragic death, Mr. Thursday. Another victim of the _Crimson Horror_ I believe? Is that what they refer to it as up north?” 

Mr. Thursday flinched back at the sound of his accent. It was always humorous to him when people discovered the Great Detective was Irish. Instead, the man refused to make eye contact and nervously played with his hands in his lap, “yes sir, so it is claimed. My brother, Edmund, was a newspaper man; he and a young woman were working undercover.”

The man reached forward to take a sip of the tea that Evelien had brought them, “I assume, Detective that you know what an optogram is?”

Sean scoffed, “it is nothing but a superstition. There is no medical proof that the retina can retain an image of the last thing it sees before death.” 

“Forgive me, sir, but you’re wrong.” Mr. Thursday reached into his overcoat and pulled out a photograph and handed it to Evelien. Sean watched as he caught her left eyebrow rising in surprise. It was such a minute reaction that he would have missed it, had he not been watching her. 

She passed the photograph to him and he scanned over the black and white image of a man’s open eyes. He felt a chill go down his spine as he caught sight of someone familiar in the reflection of the iris. “My God.” 

He swiftly raised his head from the photograph, “do you have more photographs?” 

The man nodded, “That is the only one that has been developed, but I have a whole roll of film that should provide a clearer image.” 

“Excellent.” 

\--

Sean’s patience was running out, he understood the developing process for photographs was longer than the modern digital versions that Mark had shown him, but watching Evelien carefully submerge the photographic paper into the solution was agonizing. 

“How much longer is this going to take?” He asked, glancing over to the half dozen images that were hanging to dry. Only the first one had started to materialize and the faint outline of an iris was barely visible. He yanked it off the line and started fanning the photograph, hoping that it would help it develop faster. Sean felt his stomach drop when Mark’s familiar face appeared, screaming in terror, in the dead man’s retina.

“Patience is a virtue,” Evelien hummed, pinning up the last image, unaware of what he had just seen. “But either way, I think we better make plans to head up north.” 

\--

They loaded up the carriage in record time and as soon as they were on the long path up to Yorkshire, Sean finally let some of the tension fall off his shoulders. He loosened his necktie and took off his top hat. “What do we know about the _Crimson Horror_ victims?” 

Evelien pulled out her notepad from her overcoat and flipped through the pages. “From what we’ve been able to gather, most of the victims were residents of _Sweetville_ , a self-described ‘idyllic community’ where the matron regularly runs recruitment drives for residents. She seems only interested in accepting the fittest and most beautiful.”

“You should be able to infiltrate easily,” he hummed, taking her hand in his. 

“Well I wasn’t going to say anything, but thank you, Sean!” 

Sean groaned and reached forward to hit at the drivers’ partition, “shut it, Tyler. I was talking to Evelien.” 

The partition slid open and Tyler’s unimpressed face stared back at them, “of course you were.” 

“Do we have any idea what the Doctor is doing there?” 

Sean scoffed, “he’s always getting himself into trouble. I’m never surprised anymore.” 

\--

Evelien took her seat in the chapel and glanced around at the empty walls in dismay. No stained glass, no iconography, just four plain, stone walls. The Anglican-style Church was packed to the brim with people who were looking to get a chance to see Winifred Gillyflower speak. If everything went to plan, Evelien would be one of the few selected by Mrs. Gillyflower to be relocated to Sweetville and figure out what the Doctor was up to. 

A hush went over the crowd as an elderly woman dressed in black stood at the front of the church and scanned the audience. “The world is strewn with the wretched ruins of humanity. Both men and women will be crushed by the Devil’s fury. Immorality can destroy even the most pious of lives. Believe me!” 

Evelien maintained her carefully neutral face and peered at people from the corner of her eye, they were nodding along with what Gillyflower was saying. 

“My own daughter! A victim of a drunken rage by my late husband!” 

A young woman dressed in white cautiously stood up from the front row and turned around to face the crowd. A loud gasp echoed through the church as everyone caught sight of the angry red scars that marred her orbital bones. Her milky white eyes were a shocking sight for the crowd. 

“What will your poison be? What will you be wanting during the end of days? When judgement rains down upon us all?” 

Evelien shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wondering just what they’d gotten into this time. 

“But there is a hope for your salvation! Do not despair, I offer you all a way out! There is a path that will lead you away from the temptations of the Devil! Sweetville!” 

The audience gasped in amazement and an excited hushed chatter filled the room. 

“Join us! In this shining city in the north! But first, let us sing a hymn for the Lord!” 

The entire church started to sing a hymn that Evelien had never heard of before. She looked around, slightly fearful and did her best to try and fake the melody along with everyone else. 

Once the hymn had ended, Evelien stood up with the rest of the crowd and lined up in order to be selected by Mrs. Gillywater. When it was her turn, the elderly woman looked her up and down, “so you wish to join us in Sweetville, my dear?” 

“I do, ma’am!” 

“I’m sure you will do wonderfully in our little community!” She was handed a dip pen and carefully dipped it in the bizarre red ink before scrawling out the alias they had selected for her. 

After she had written the name down, Evelien waited in the carriage line that would take them to Sweetville. The ride was short and bumpy, but once they had entered the large steel gates of the community, she knew there was no turning back. They were all escorted into a large factory building and instructed to wait in line. The woman in line in front of her looked over her shoulder and gave her a close-mouthed smile. “Only the best for Sweetville! I hope me teeth don’t let me down, what d’you think?” She opened her mouth and showed Evelien her teeth, most of which were crooked and caked with tartar in the early stages of rotting away. “I’m Abigail by the way. I’ve never seen you round these parts? Are you new?” 

Evelien nodded her head and tried to cover the grimace on her face as a cough, “I’m up from London. Do you know anyone from Sweetville?”

Abigail nodded eagerly, “I had a neighbour who moved in a few months back. She wrote me a few weeks ago about how perfect it was. Funny thing is, I haven’t heard from her in ages.” 

Evelien made sure to file that away in her mind for later, “I’m sure she’s alright. Best of luck to the both of us, eh?” 

As soon as the opportunity presented, Evelien ducked away from the line and towards a large, iron door. She deftly removed a few pins from her hair and made quick work of picking the lock. She heaved the large door open and hurried inside the large warehouse. 

Almost immediately her ears were hit with a large mechanical banging sound that echoed around the empty room through the air vents. The sound was so loud that she almost missed the group of men carrying large vats of red liquid into a lift. As carefully as she could, Evelien waited for the lift to come back down before following the group of men.

Evelien peered out of the lift and when there was no one in the hallway she carefully made her way towards the door with a bright red light glaring from behind the frosty glass in the window. When she couldn’t make anything out from inside the room, she hurried towards the other end of the hallway and up a metal set of stairs. 

At the top was another steel door, where she could hear a man’s pained moans from the other side. “Are you alright?” She asked quietly, placing her hand on the cold metal, “I’m going to get you out. But you’re going to follow and listen to everything that I say, is that understood?” 

There was a bang at the other side of the door and she took out her pins from earlier, “you do anything funny and I’ll leave you here to rot.” 

Evelien went to work at picking the lock and when she heard the click, pushed it open carefully. 

She slid inside the dark room and gasped, “Doctor!” 

The Doctor was chained to the wall in nothing but a pair of trousers. But that wasn’t what scared Evelien. His skin was stained a deep red and his face was frozen in a scream of terror. 

He staggered towards her when he saw her and groaned, unable to close his mouth to properly speak. 

“Oh my God, let me get you out of those chains!” Her hands fumbled over the Doctor’s wrists as she unlocked the cuffs. As soon as the heavy metal cuffs opened, Evelien couldn’t help but notice that the inside ring was caked in red. Whether it was blood or not, she couldn’t tell. The red pigment on the Doctor’s skin made it impossible to determine if he had any flesh wounds.

“Eee,” the Doctor groaned, slowly flexing his fingers. 

“I know, I’ll get you out of here and back to Sean and Tyler.” She scanned the room the Doctor had been kept in and grabbed at the pile of his clothes that were discarded in the corner. “Come on, let’s go.” 

It took them far much longer to get down the stairs than she wanted. The Doctor’s limbs were stock stiff and he was unable to bend his arms or his legs. Evelien carefully guided them down the hallway towards the door with the red light and almost gasped when she saw Mrs. Gillyflower’s daughter come up in the lift. 

The blind woman cocked her head to the side, as if she was listening for something, before carrying on towards the staircase, the rhythmic tapping of her cane sounding eerily similar to an explosive. 

They passed a window that displayed the factory floor and Evelien was able to see through the steam on the windows. She had to clap her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. 

Unconscious people were hanging from their shoulders on a bizarre contraption that was lowering them into a boiling vat of red liquid. She could hear the sizzle as their skin was submerged and had to swallow down the bile in her mouth when she realized that the Doctor had gone through that. 

She gripped at her rosary and thanked the Lord for the Doctor’s survival before blindly pushing them forward past the window and into a room full of wooden crates. She closed the door behind them and set the Doctor’s belongings down on a crate before fishing out his sonic screwdriver. 

“Can this do anything to fix you?” 

The Doctor gave her a jerking nod and forced his arm up to take the sonic. She watched as it whirred to life in his hand and he stumbled his way towards a large locker. 

“You want in there?” She asked, confused.

The Doctor nodded his head and stepped inside, Evelien closing the door behind him. 

The whirring of the sonic grew louder and a golden mist emerged from the slits in the metal. 

Less than a minute later, the Doctor burst out, his skin glowing slightly golden instead of the vibrant red and he smiled at her, “it’s about time you found me. _God_ I was afraid you’d never find me.” 

He hurried to the shelf with his clothes and started getting dressed. “We’ve got to stop Mrs. Gillyflower and then rescue Ethan. _Fuck, where’s Ethan?”_

Evelien shook off the use of the Lord’s name in vain and watched in confusion as the Doctor ran his hands through his long hair in mild panic.

Evelien herself was feeling slightly rattled and she was in no position to maintain the proper Victorian woman persona around such a close friend. “Doctor I don’t understand? How did you know we were looking for you? How long have you been here? _Ethan who?_ Ethan’s dead! _What’s going on?”_

“It’s a long story.” 

\--

**Unknown.**

“Does this look right?” Ethan asked as he entered the console room, the heavily starched collar of his shirt forcing his chin up. 

Mark glanced up from the console monitor, already dressed appropriately and did a double take. He watched as Mark’s mouth pressed into a fine line and he could visibly see him swallow. 

He frowned and self consciously looked down at his green plaid trousers and dark grey overcoat, “is this wrong? I just copied an outfit the TARDIS showed me from the 19th century. I can go fix it -” 

“You look great, Eth,” Mark croaked, “sorry, you just look like him and I wasn’t expecting it.” 

Ethan pushed back the wave of discomfort at Mark mentioning the other Ethan. Knowing that his partner had kindled a previous relationship with a clone of himself and had met multiple versions of himself in different timelines was difficult for him to process correctly. If there was even a correct way of doing such a thing. They had fully discussed every one of the Ethan’s that Mark had run into and even though he didn’t like the thought of it, they had agreed that there would be no more secrets between the two of them. 

Instead of voicing his discomfort, because it wouldn’t get them anywhere, he held out his necktie and cocked his head to the side slightly, “you wouldn’t happen to know how to tie one of these would you?” 

Mark’s face softened and waved him closer, “course I do, I’m a time traveler it’s part of the job.” 

Ethan approached him and held the silk tie out. Mark took the silk from his hand and gently tilted his chin up. “It took me forever to figure out how to tie these, but you get the hang of it after a while.” 

He hummed in acknowledgement and let Mark finish. He had a look of concentration on his face as his hands tied the necktie almost as easily as tying his shoes. Once he was done Mark gave him a once over and straightened the shoulders of his overcoat and tugged the slack in his sleeves until they were just past his wrists. “Only thing wrong is your hair, but I think you should leave it.” 

He struggled to nod his head, the high, stiff collar and necktie making it difficult, and thanked Mark, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “Love you.” 

Mark slid his arm around his waist and pulled him in, the large buttons of his coat awkwardly pressing into his chest, “love you too, Eth. Are you sure you’re ok with this?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He questioned, trying to enjoy Mark’s warmth that still managed to seep through multiple layers of clothing. 

“Well, you deflated like a balloon when I mentioned… _you know who_ and we’re going to the time and place that I first met him. With people who also knew him. Figured that might put you off of Victorian London.” 

Ethan hid his grimace by pressing his face into Mark’s shoulder, “I’ll be fine meeting your friends, Mark.” 

“Promise?” Mark mumbled, nudging his nose into Ethan’s neck. 

“I’d tell you if I didn’t want to go. No more secrets, remember?” 

Mark let him go and gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No more secrets.” 

Ethan knew that Mark had been harbouring an immense amount of guilt over hurting him through keeping the other Ethan’s a secret. It was something that they were slowly working through. 

He gave Mark a genuine smile back and stepped up to the console. He scanned over it briefly before he started calibrating the TARDIS to take them to Victorian England. “London, when?” 

Mark’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “oh you’re flying the TARDIS?” 

Ethan gave him a cocky smirk, “obviously. When are we going?” 

Mark stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder, “try not to take us to a plague year, babe.” 

He stilled where he was calibrating the TARDIS, “when was the last time England had a plague outbreak?” 

“Like 1660 something,” Mark responded casually, “I can promise that there’s no plague in 1893. There is a fuck ton of air pollution though. That’s what happens when coal is your only fuel source.” 

“I like history teacher Mark, he seems like he’d try to be the _cool teacher,_ y’know? Much more interesting than my high school history teacher.” Ethan joked, letting himself imagine what Mark would be like as a teacher and chuckled to himself at the thought. He filled in the last piece of information the TARDIS needed and pulled the lever, Mark’s weight behind him making it slightly more laborious than it should’ve been. 

“I don’t need to be a history teacher to be cool,” Mark mumbled into his neck, “I’m already plenty cool.” 

Ethan hummed and kept his eyes on the console, “you tell yourself that, babe.” 

The TARDIS landed and Mark kissed under his ear before letting him go, “you’re getting better at flying the TARDIS. Soon you won’t even need me.” 

Ethan scoffed and craned his head around to look at Mark, “as if the TARDIS would let that happen.” 

“Oh it’s definitely sick of my ass after so long.” 

The TARDIS wheezed in confirmation and Mark pointed to the ceiling, “see? Told you.” 

He huffed out a laugh and gestured to the doors, “let’s go see your friends, idiot.” 

Mark grinned a dopey smile at him and spun on his heel, before heading towards the doors; the tails of his overcoat twirling around him. “I’m sure you’ll love them. Sean is great. Tyler and I go way back.” 

Mark thrust the doors open and Ethan could smell burning coal from his position at the console, “smells like Victorian England, that’s for sure.” 

Ethan hurried after him and shut the TARDIS doors after him. He almost rolled his ankle on the uneven cobblestone and reached out to grab Mark’s elbow to stabilize himself. 

“Careful,” Mark warned, turning around to help him. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this is Yorkshire, babe. Not London.” 

He frowned and kicked at the cobblestone road, “did I at least do better this time?” 

Mark enthusiastically nodded his head, “much better. Right year, right country. Just a little but north. Maybe a day’s carriage ride away from London.” 

“Or a few seconds in the TARDIS,” he reminded, stepping into Mark’s space. 

“Oh has someone finally realized the benefits of time travel?” Mark purred. 

A loud scream ruined the moment and before Ethan could react Mark was running towards the source of the scream. Ethan groaned and hurried after him, ignoring the looks of people peering out of their homes. 

He hurried towards a bridge over the canal and peered over the edge to see a body caught in the weeds. 

“Another one! Another body! When are you gonna start doin’ your jobs and find the maniac that’s doin’ this? Won’t anyone listen to us?” 

“We’ll listen,” Mark announced.

The man appeared to consider Mark’s offer before he nodded and held out his hand, “Edmund Thursday.” 

Mark grasped his hand back, “I’m the Doctor, and this is my associate, Ethan. Tell me everything.

Edmund gestured for them to follow, “excellent, a physician’s knowledge will certainly help us get to the bottom of this. It’s Mrs. Winifred Gillyflower, prize winning chemist and engineer. She’s opened up her own little community, _Sweetville_ , claims it’s a match factory. But the funny thing is, no one that lives there ever comes out.” 

The man led them to a large gated community and gestured to the courtyard, “it’s midday and there isn’t a soul to be seen. I’ve never seen any of the chimneys blowing smoke, not once. What factory does that? But that isn’t even the worst part.” 

They were then taken to a dark and damp mortuary, where a creepy looking mortician showed them the body that had been fished out of the canal. Ethan flinched as the white sheet was lowered to reveal the victim’s bright red flesh. 

“Same as the rest,” the mortician announced, “died of unknown causes and flesh glowin’ like a hot coal. They keep turnin’ up in the canal. Locals ‘ave started callin’ it the _Crimson ‘orror.”_

“Good name,” Mark told the mortician, “ _the Crimson Horror._ Wonder what it is.” 

Ethan watched from afar as Mark examined the body, very uncomfortable with the situation. 

“Ethan, do you know the old wive’s tale about dead bodies?” 

He rolled his eyes, “you know I don’t, M- _Doctor_.” 

“Good thing I do. Legend has it that the retina retains the last thing it sees before it dies. Which is false, unless the chemical composition of the body has been fucked with.” 

Mark grabbed one of the white sheets hanging from a line a few feet away and ripped a piece off. He approached the body and dabbed at their face, a bright red residue staining the cloth. “Let’s see what this red shit is.” 

Mark wandered over to the other side of the mortuary, where all the embalming chemicals were lined up. Soon enough, he had beakers bubbling and smoking and Ethan was left amazed at the skills Mark seemed to be able to manifest for certain situations. 

“This stuff is nasty,” Mark announced a while later, holding up a tube of opaque red liquid, “it’s a complex poison, kinda like a venom.” He glanced over at Edmund who had been watching the whole time, “and you think this is connected to Sweetville?” 

“Yes sir I do.”

Mark glanced at Ethan from over the beaker, “then we need a plan.” 

\--

“I must say, it is astounding to have a family produce two children that have become physicians,” Mrs. Gillyflower announced, “two Dr. Smith’s! You will be wonderful additions to Sweetville.” 

Ethan glanced over at Mark who had a smile plastered on his face, “yes ma’am the College of Physicians thought there had been a mistake when they saw two Dr. Smith’s registered under them. But my brother here proved them wrong.” 

Ethan grimaced at Mark’s poor Yorkshire accent, he had no idea if the woman was actually buying their story. They clearly looked nothing alike and having his partner refer to him as his brother was not something he wanted to hear. _Ever._

But he put on the fake smile that Mark had taught him and followed the woman obediently as she led them around on a tour. He could tell that Mark was just as aware of the lack of human life as he was by the way his mouth twitched down for a moment as they passed an empty courtyard. 

“You’ll have everything you’ll ever need here,” Gillyflower droned on, “you’ll never want a thing ever again.” 

“The name of the town,” he started, clearing his throat when his accent was slightly off, “why not name it after yourself?” 

“The name comes from my husband, Mr. Sweet. He likes to keep to himself. Now let’s move on.”

Mrs. Gillyflower led them up the pathway to a townhouse and pulled out a large ring of keys.

“Who lives here?” Mark asked. 

“Oh, silly,” Mrs. Gillyflower laughed, “names do not matter in Sweetville. Do come in.” 

They entered the house and they both froze when they saw a couple, frozen like wax statues positioned in the centre of the living room. 

Ethan yelled out in shock and couldn’t help himself as he latched onto Mark’s side and grabbed at his hand. 

Suddenly, there were men in black suits emerging from the nearby houses as if this whole operation had been planned. They pulled at his shoulders and arms and pulled him away from Mark, who was desperately trying to fight the men off, but it was no use, they were completely outnumbered. 

_“Mark!”_ He screamed, tears blurring his vision as he was pulled farther away from the one person he knew would keep him safe. 

_“Ethan!”_ He heard Mark yell back before he was hit violently on the back of the head.

\--

“So, how did you survive?” Evelien asked, “everyone else gets thrown into the canal?” 

Mark shrugged, letting the sonic navigate them out of the factory, “must be something to do with the fact that I’m not human. If it wasn’t for Gillyflower’s daughter keeping me like some pet, I would’ve drowned in the canal for sure. The worst was when Edmund came bursting into the cell I was in, covered in the venom and solidified right in front of me. He must’ve come looking for us and gotten himself captured.” 

“What is it though, Doctor?” 

“It’s deadly poison, people are being dipped into a diluted version to preserve the bodies. Think of it like wax.” 

“Preserve them from what?” 

“If you listen to Gillyflower, the coming apocalypse. When you’ve been doing this for as long as I have, Evelien, you stop asking why.” 

“When the end of days has come, and judgement rains down upon us all,” Evelien muttered. 

“What was that?” He asked.

“Just something that I remember Gillyflower saying earlier. We best be leaving, Doctor. Sean will be looking for me soon.” 

Mark nodded his head, “right, let’s find Ethan and get the hell out of here.” 

“You keep mentioning Ethan, but Doctor, Ethan’s dead!” Evelien insisted. 

Mark grimaced, pocketing the sonic as he found the way outside “it’s complicated.” 

Evelien hurried after him into the brisk night air, “are we talking about the same person? The same Ethan?” 

Instead of answering her question, Mark hurried to peer inside random windows, hoping to find Ethan in one of them. “I couldn’t see much, but he must’ve survived the process, so he’s here somewhere.” 

_“But Ethan died, the ice lady - Doctor!”_

“It’s complicated!” He hissed, desperately trying to avoid this conversion. He’d already had it with Ethan himself and it wasn’t something that he felt like repeating so soon. Or ever. 

He hurried up the walkway to a townhouse and tried each door, frowning when the door was locked. He made it to the last house and pumped his fist when the door opened. 

Mark almost fell to his knees when he saw Ethan’s body, positioned like a doll, standing next to a young woman. They were trapped under a glass dome and Mark stumbled over to it, slamming his fists on the thick glass. 

He completely ignored the gasp from Evelien at the sight of Ethan and quickly grabbed an iron rod from the fireplace before swinging it like a bat at the glass dome. The glass shattered loudly and Mark dropped the rod to grab at Ethan’s clothes. His body toppled over and Mark almost couldn’t get a hold of the deadweight. Despite Mark regularly being able to carry Ethan easily, the rigidity of his body made him much harder to hold. Mark wanted to cry. He had promised Ethan he would keep him safe and he kept failing. 

“Evelien, grab his legs, we have to go back to the factory to fix him. There’s no way we can get to the TARDIS with him like this and we can’t stay here.” 

“Can he be fixed, Doctor?” Evelien asked as she fumbled with Ethan’s legs.

“If he can’t be fixed, there will be hell to pay,” he promised. 

Together they carefully carried Ethan’s body back the way they had come and pushed a few crates around to make room to place him on the floor.

“Evelien keep watch,” he instructed as his hands started to shake. 

Very carefully, he exhaled slowly and watched as his hands started to glow a bright gold. The familiar pins and needles started up his arms and he had to be careful not to hurt Ethan. He placed his hands on Ethan’s cheeks and willed his regeneration energy to reverse the venom in Ethan’s system. 

“Doctor, we have a problem!” Evelien hissed, causing Mark to look up. 

About a dozen men were standing to the entrance of the room with bats. 

“Don’t stop what you’re doing,” Evelien insisted, quickly undoing the buttons of her dress to reveal a black catsuit. “I’ve got this.” 

Mark’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, “well shit, that’s a good plan.” 

He couldn’t take his eyes away as Evelien charged at the group of men and quickly took them out one by one. Clearly none of them were prepared for a woman to be able to take them down so efficiently. 

Ethan’s cheek twitched under his fingers and he glanced down to see Ethan taking in shallow breaths. 

“Come on, Ethan.” He encouraged, pouring more regeneration energy through his body to his finger tips, ignoring the pain that was building in his chest. “Evelien can’t keep them back forever.” 

“Sean should be here soon!” Evelien shouted from somewhere behind him, followed by more shouts of men in pain. “How much longer before Ethan’s fixed?” 

“Shouldn’t be long!” He hoped, watching as Ethan’s whole body started glowing. 

He heard a loud crash from behind him, followed by shouting, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Ethan, his breathing was getting steadier and there was movement behind his eyelids. 

_“Mark, what the fuck?”_ He flinched at Sean’s voice and turned his head to see Sean and Tyler’s confused faces at the sight of Ethan beneath him. 

“I know who you think he is,” he started, a smile coming across his face as Ethan’s eyelids fluttered open a crack, “but he isn’t.” 

He stroked his thumbs on Ethan’s cheekbones and let out a sigh of relief when Ethan leaned his face into the movement. “Thank god. Open your eyes, babe.” He encouraged soft enough that the others couldn’t hear. 

Ethan’s mouth opened slightly and a large cloud of misty regeneration energy drifted out past his lips as he exhaled. His eyes fluttered open and his unfocused eyes met Mark’s. 

Mark couldn’t help the sigh of relief that he let out. He willed the regeneration energy to stop and the burning sensation that had enveloped his body dulled. Without a second thought, he leaned down and kissed Ethan’s forehead before helping Ethan sit up. “Just take it easy, you might feel a little stiff.” 

Ethan was slow to get to his feet and Mark could tell he was still out of it, his body still giving off a faint golden glow. To prevent him from falling, Mark wrapped Ethan’s left arm over his shoulder and steadied him with a hand on his waist. 

“Hi Mark,” Ethan grinned dopily, leaning into him. 

“Hey, Eth,” he responded, reaching into his pocket to grab his sonic. He scanned over Ethan to make sure his vitals were ok. 

“Mark?” Sean’s angry voice echoed around the room and it snapped him out of the imaginary bubble he’d allowed to appear around him and Ethan. “What’s going on?” 

The sound of another person’s voice woke Ethan up a little more as his eyes scanned the room until they landed on Sean. He shook his head a little as if to shake away the fuzziness in his head and stepped out of Mark’s hold a little. 

“Hi, I’m Ethan,” he extended his hand out and Sean shook it with an uncertain look on his face. “You must be Mark’s friends.” 

Sean gave him a curt nod, his eyes flickering up to Mark. “I’m Sean and this is Evelien and Tyler.” 

Ethan settled back into his side and Mark couldn’t help the fond smile he gave him. 

“We should get moving,” Evelien reminded sharply, “someone will find us eventually.” 

Mark agreed with her, they couldn’t stay here forever. He looked at Ethan, who was still clearly shaking off the effects of both the venom and regeneration energy. There was no way he would be able to run if they needed to get away quickly. The only option they had was to carry him until he was cognizant enough of his surroundings. “I’ll have to carry Ethan, can someone help?”

Evelien stepped forward and Mark carefully shifted Ethan’s weight over to her so he could bend down slightly. “C’mon, Eth, I’m gonna give you a piggyback.” 

Ethan giggled slightly and with Evelien’s help, he clumsily climbed onto Mark’s back and latched on like a koala. Mark hiked him up a little higher and made sure Ethan wouldn’t fall off. 

“Alright, let’s go.”

Sean took the lead and led them out of the room, back towards the lift. 

“I think I know what the venom is,” Sean said without breaking stride, “it’s ancient. But if my research is correct, it comes from the red leech.” 

Mark hummed and pressed the button to call up the lift, “what was it?” 

“It was a parasite that infected drinking water. The poison is secreted from its skin.” 

Mark grimaced, “so it’s been hanging around earth for potentially millenia. Fucking great. It’s been lurking, and probably had time to evolve, something’s probably helped it along the way as well.” 

“Maaark,” Ethan whined, “the chimney-” 

“Shh,” he cooed, craning his head to look at Ethan, “you need to rest, we’ll figure it out don’t worry.” 

He turned back to Sean, “yucky red parasite from the time of dinosaurs, ends up in Victorian London, that’s a new one.” 

“But, the chimney-” 

“Ethan, it’s ok, babe. Just close your eyes and rest. We’ll figure out the connection to Gillyflower.” 

He spun around and faced Evelien, “what was it you said about her? _Judgement will rain down upon us all?”_

Evelien nodded and crossed her arms over her chest, “the woman has to be mad.” 

“C’mon, someone here has to be able to connect the dots,” he encouraged, shifting Ethan’s weight as he started to squirm around. 

_“Holy fuck, put me down!”_ Ethan wiggled out of his hold and staggered as his feet touched the ground, “Mark the fucking chimney’s don’t blow any smoke, you idiot!” 

He suddenly felt like such an idiot as the pieces all fit together in his head. “I knew there was a reason I love you.” 

He ignored the pointed look he was getting from Sean and ushered everyone into the open lift, “I have a plan.” 

He pressed the button to take them to the top floor and headed straight to the only door at the end of the hallway. They all caught sight of the large metal rocket, disguised as a chimney and hid behind a metal shelving unit. 

“She’s gonna poison the air.” He stated, surveilling the far too advanced technology for the late 19th century. 

“With the shitty chimney-rocket?” Ethan asked, peering through the shelves.

“And that large bottle of poison,” Evelien butted in, pointing to the large red bottle sitting on top of a crate. 

“Let’s hope this plan works, Ethan, you’re with me.” 

\--

When they stepped out of the lift on the second floor, Mark stopped in his tracks. Mrs. Gillyflower’s daughter had her face in her hands and was crying at the base of the staircase. 

  
Ethan gave him a confused look and before he could second guess himself, Mark hurried towards the woman. He crouched in front of her and scanned her abused face. 

“Who’s there?” She demanded, her hand looking around for her cane. 

He grabbed onto her hand and sighed before bringing it up to his cheek. 

“Monster!” She cried, “it’s my monster, you’ve come back! But, but -” 

“You’re feeling my skin, and hearing my voice. I’m alive because of you. You saved me from your mother.”

“Mother doesn’t want me, Monster,” she sobbed, “I have not been chosen to enter her new kingdom. Maybe it is the sin that is gripped around my heart. The sin that my father saw in me. The justification for these visible reminders.” 

“No,” he insisted, carefully examining the scars on her face. “You know that’s wrong. You aren’t a sinner. You saved an innocent man’s life when you could have left me to be thrown into the canal.” 

“Is everything alright?” 

Mark hadn’t noticed Ethan approaching and jumped slightly, “don’t worry, this is Ethan, he’s a friend.” 

“I know it might be difficult,” he continued, “but I need to know who Mr. Sweet is.” 

At the sound of the name, the young woman flinched back, “I can’t.” 

“Yes, you can. Your mother does not control you.”

She shook her head and stared ahead, “I cannot betray Mother. Even now.” 

Mark bowed his head and sighed, “then come with us, there’s something you need to know. Can you take us to your mother?” 

With a teary sniff, the young woman nodded her head and stood up, “it’s not too far.” 

It didn’t take long for the extravagant cathedral-esque door to appear, hidden away from prying eyes. They never would have found it without the young woman’s help. 

“Stay here until it’s safe,” he instructed, trusting that she would listen. 

“Trust me, Monster, I cannot face Mother right now. I shall stay out of sight.” 

Mark nodded and gestured for Ethan to follow him. He thrust the door open and strided in. Gillyflower was standing protectively in front of a large radio transmitter with a disgruntled look on her face.

“Oh dear,” she muttered, “you do seem rather hard to get rid of. I’ve made quicker work of insects.” 

He laughed humorlessly and slid his hands into his pockets, “my apologies. Protecting the world from people like you has become a bad habit of mine.” 

“Can I give you a bit of advice?” Mark watched carefully as the elderly woman walked circles around him, stalking him like prey. “You should not intervene in the work of higher powers. It will get you nowhere in the New World.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re fucked in the head,” he muttered, stalking up to the transmitter to examine it. “But, I’m the Doctor and I’m here to stop you.” 

Gillyflower laughed, “I’m afraid that is impossible. Mr. Sweet and I will not allow it.” 

“Speaking of Mr. Sweet, care to explain why the pair of you are dipping your workforce into diluted venom from a prehistoric leech?” 

“When do we get the _honour_ of meeting this, _Mr. Sweet?”_ Ethan mused, leaning up against the large window with his arms crossed. 

“Oh, my dear Mr. Sweet is always with me,” Gillyflower said airily. “We have an exceedingly close relationship, he and I. Symbiotic you might say.” 

Both Mark and Ethan watched in disgust as Gillyflower tore at the neckline of her dress, revealing a large pulsing, red creature attached to her collarbone. 

Mark’s face scrunched up as the creature hissed. The only other sound in the room was Ethan’s, “fucking gross, dude. The fuck is that?” 

“Mr. Sweet is a survivor. He has grown fat off of the filth of humanity. Your profanity young man is an excellent example as to why we must cleanse this world. But Mr. Sweet and I, we have an arrangement, his needs are simple and in return I receive his nectar.” 

“Gillyflower, you have no idea what you’re dealing with,” he warned, not wanting to get too close to the leech, “in the wrong hands, that venom could easily wipe off half the planet.” 

The woman sneered and waved her hands in his face, “lucky for you, these just so happen to be the wrong hands.” 

In a quick motion, Gillyflower hurried over to the radio transmitter and flipped a switch. A loud air siren started blaring and the building shook. 

_“Mark, the rocket!”_ Ethan exclaimed, looking through the large window to see the false chimney lit up. 

“You have forced me to advance our great plan, Doctor. But our scheme remains the same as originally planned. My little rocket will soar into the atmosphere and rain down Mr. Sweet’s glorious venom onto all of humanity!” 

“Oh, you’re right fucked,” Ethan muttered, “actually insane.” 

Gillyflower carried on with a dreamy look in her eyes, “my new Adam and Eve’s will sleep for a short few months before stepping back out into a divine, golden new world. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?” 

Mark raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “are you done? Because I want to talk to you about your daughter.” 

“My what?” She barked, her persona immediately becoming annoyed. 

“Your daughter,” he reminded, “you do remember that you have one?” 

Gillyflower scoffed, “why would you feel the need to bring up such trivial things on the Eve of the New World. That child is of no use to me.”

He sneered at the woman, “is that why you turned her into a lab rat and experimented on her? Did you really think that no one would notice? You used that poor girl as a guinea pig.” 

Ethan gasped in shock and shot a look back towards the doorway, where hopefully, the young woman was still hiding. “What parent could do that to their kid?”

“Sometimes, sacrifices must be made.” 

Mark growled at the woman, taking his turn to stalk around the room, feeling anger build up in him over the callous attitude this woman was showing towards her daughter. “ _A sacrifice?”_

“It was necessary!” She hissed, a wild look in her eyes. “I needed to know how much venom was needed to produce an antidote in order to inoculate myself! _It was necessary_!” 

_“Mother!”_ A sorrowful voice weeped, “is that the truth?” 

“Ada!” Gillyflower, scolded. 

“It is true, isn’t it! _Oh my Lord, it is.”_

“Ada, listen to yourself!” Gillyflower condescended. 

“ _You filthy hag!”_ Ada screeched, rage evident on her face and in her milky eyes. 

Mark barely had time to get out of the way as Ada charged at her mother, her cane ready to swing. _“You pathetic hag! You virago! You wretched harpy! All of these years I have helped you, served you, taken care of you! And you were the one who did this to me? Of your own volition? How can you look in the mirror? Or at me, your own child, without a shred of guilt?”_

Mark watched as Ada reared back and smacked her cane into her mother’s face, the sickening crack of her nose causing the young woman to cheer out. “Now you shall experience the same pain that you forced upon me for all of these years!” 

Ada’s rage was nowhere near done and smack after smack of her cane could be heard with surprising force against Gillyflower’s frail body. Mark was unsympathetic to her cries, and the stony look on Ethan’s face made his feelings apparent as well. 

“As entertaining and deserving as this is,” Ethan stated, “we should probably turn off the rocket. Y’know, prevent the extinction of the human race?” 

He quickly nodded and fished his sonic out of his pocket. It whirred to life as he pointed it at the transmitter. 

“God that thing is so slow,” Ethan butted in, grabbing a chair and jamming it into the transmitter. 

The machine exploded and Mark ducked in front of Ethan to cover the both of them from the sparks and debris. 

“No!” Gillyflower’s shrill scream rang out, her face swollen and bleeding as Ada flinched away from the explosion. 

“What a shame,” he snarked, “looks like that rocket isn’t going anywhere now.” 

“Ada,” Gillyflower weeped, “Ada, my child. Please, come here.” 

Ada’s lip shook as tears pooled in her eyes before blindly reaching out to her mother. The rage that she had experienced evaporating in an instant. 

The whiplash that Gillyflower was putting her daughter through made Mark sick. The young woman had been so rightfully angry and the simple plea from her mother had brought her crawling back. Decades of trauma and manipulation had made Ada desperate for her mother’s attention. 

“Mother, please,” Ada begged, holding her arms out. 

The elderly woman grasped onto her daughter’s arm and pulled her in for a hug. “Oh Ada. _You foolish girl!”_

Mark watched in slow motion as Gillyflower wrapped her hand around Ada’s neck and grabbed at the small revolver on the nearby shelf, positioning it against her daughter’s temple. 

“Look at what you’ve become! What that parasite has done to you!” He shouted, his mind running a mile a minute, “you’re pointing a gun at your daughter’s head!” 

“Yes, well, desperate times I suppose.” Gillyflower pointed the gun at them and kicked at Ada’s feet, “if you’ll excuse us, we must be going!” 

“Please, Mother,” Ada cried, “no more! No more!” 

Gillyflower shoved Ada towards the door with a heavy limp and kept the gun pointed at them. “My daughter and I have important matters to discuss.” 

As soon as they were out of the doorway, Ethan went to chase after them. Mark quickly had to grab his wrist, “Ethan, wait! If you go right after them, Ada’s as good as dead. Gillyflower will shoot her.” 

“She wouldn’t!” Ethan exclaimed with wide eyes. 

“I think we both know that she’s unhinged enough to do it.” He said, grimly. 

Mark pondered what the best course of action was. He ran different scenarios through his head and he caught sight of the chimney-rocket. It was obvious that Gillyflower would head there to try and fulfill her plan. He hurried over to the window and unlatched it, a cold gust of wind blowing into the smoke-filled room. There was a clear path along the roof directly to the chimney. 

“Ethan, quick, we’ll take the roof!” He carefully climbed through the window and balanced one foot on the narrow peak of the roof. The angle of the roof was steep and they were going to have to put one foot directly in front of the other, but it was a much faster way than running through the factory. 

“Fuck, Mark is this a good idea?” Ethan asked as he pulled himself through the window. 

“You were a gymnast,” he said, “this should be no problem for you. It’s me that needs to be worried.” 

“Because that’s reassuring.” 

“It’s the quickest option we have at getting to that rocket and stopping Gillyflower. Let’s go before the wind blows us off.” 

As carefully as he could, Mark placed one foot in front of the other and held out his arms for balance. He stepped on a loose shingle and felt it crumble and fall to the ground. 

Ethan grabbed at his waist to steady him, “get down lower, it’ll help.” 

With his hearts beating in his throat, he bent his knees a little more and kept his eyes in front of him, and not to the harrowing cobblestone courtyard below. 

“Almost there, babe.” Ethan encouraged, “just keep your head up.” 

Mark took a deep breath and carried on, hoping in the back of his mind that Tyler, Sean and Evelien were able to prevent the venom from being loaded into the rocket. 

The last few feet to the window on the other side of the roof felt like an eternity away. As soon as the window ledge was in reach, he was scrambling for it. He pulled himself up onto it and looked over his shoulder to see Ethan watching him nervously, “you good, Mark?” 

He hadn’t realized that he’d been sweating so aggressively despite the cold and wiped at his forehead, “yeah, I’m good. What about you?” 

“Oh I’m great. Want me to do a flip?” Ethan asked, bending his knees. 

“No!” He shouted, reaching a flailing arm out to grasp at Ethan’s overcoat. “Don’t you fucking dare!” 

Ethan laughed and effortlessly walked the distance between them until he was right against his back, “I would never. I would totally land it though.” 

“Great, that’s wonderful. Now let’s get inside.” 

He fumbled in his coat pocket for his sonic and bashed the bottom end of it into the window pane next to the latch. The pane shattered and Mark carefully reached inside to unlatch the window, swinging it open. 

He scrambled inside and once his feet were on the floor, he turned around to help Ethan inside. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Ethan chirped, running a hand through his wind-swept hair. 

“Speak for yourself,” he muttered, looking around at the large spiral staircase that led to the rocket. “Let’s go.” 

Ethan grabbed at his hand and the two of them rounded the staircase. Mark couldn’t help the deja-vu that he felt. He and Victorian Ethan had done something so similar while running from the ice lady that it made his insides twist in a painful way. But a quick glance at Ethan, with his wild hair, chipped nail polish and his eyes that shone with life made that pain go away in an instant. 

None of those other Ethan’s were his. He hardly even knew any of them. Mark knew this Ethan inside and out. Ethan Nestor was his. His to hold and kiss and _love._ And that was exactly what he planned to do. He quickly stopped climbing the staircase and when Ethan collided into him, he pulled him into a deep kiss. He gripped at Ethan’s sides and once Ethan got over his surprise, Mark felt Ethan wind his arms around his neck and tangle his fingers in his hair. 

Ethan was the one to pull away first, his cheeks the perfect shade of pink. “What was that? Not that I’m complaining, but what about Gillyflower?” 

“When was the last time I told you I love you?” He breathed, “Because I really do, more than anything else and I just really needed to tell you.” 

Ethan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and his mouth opened and closed like a fish for a brief moment, “I love you, too. Mark. Of course I know that. Are you ok?” 

He nodded his head and took Ethan’s hand, starting up the staircase again, “just a spur of the moment thing.” 

“Um, ok.” 

The two of them came to a break in the staircase, right at the base of the rocket in the large room they had all been in earlier. There was no sign of the others but Mark didn’t let that bother him as he heard Ada begging her mother for mercy. 

“Ada!” He yelled, charging up the last few stairs towards the two women. “Let her go, Gillyflower!” 

They caught up with them by a small fuse box. Gillyflower laughed triumphantly at them, “secondary switch, Doctor! Looks like Mr. Sweet and I outsmarted you!” 

“Just let Ada go!” He pleaded. 

Ada cried out and burst out of Gillyflower’s hold, falling down the stairs until he managed to catch her. He heard the cocking of a gun and looked up to see Gillyflower’s shaking hand pointing the revolver at them. Her beaten and bruising face glared menacingly down at them. 

“Shoot me, Mother!” Ada cried, her voice hoarse. “It does not matter if you kill me on this night, for you have already killed me years ago!” 

Gillyflower fired her gun and Mark covered his face as he heard the bullet whiz by. “Ethan, look out!” He cried, helping Ada to her feet. 

“You’re too late, Doctor!” Gillyflower shouted, “I have won!” 

She pulled the large switch in the fusebox and the rocket roared to life. 

He quickly pulled off his overcoat and covered Ada with it in order to protect her from the searing heat the rocket was giving off. He frantically looked back for Ethan and grabbed at the outstretched arm that he was holding out, pulling him up the last few stairs. He grabbed at one side of Ethan’s coat and pulled it over as much of his exposed back as he could, the heat from the rocket blast blistering the back of his neck. 

He could hear the maniacal laughter of Mrs. Gillyflower. “Now Mr. Sweet! Now the whole world will taste your kiss of death!” 

Mark saw movement out of the corner of his eyes and fist pumped triumphantly. “I don’t think so, Mrs. Gillyflower!” 

Sean and Evelien stepped out of the shadows with the large red bottle of venom held between the two of them. 

The old woman’s lip curled up and he hissed in rage. Her free hand reached up to clasp Mr. Sweet. “Very well! If I can’t carry out my plan, I shall kill you instead!” 

Gillyflower aimed her gun at Ethan and before he could do anything, he heard the whine of a lazar warming up. The lazarbeam hit Gillyflower dead in the chest and she toppled over the flimsy railing and plummeted to the concrete floor below. 

Mark spun around and faced the direction the lazar came from and pointed his finger at Tyler. “You were late! She was gonna kill Ethan” 

Tyler shrugged and slung the still-smoking lazargun over his shoulder, “better late than never.” 

Tyler walked over to Mrs. Gillyflower’s body and gave a low whistle, “she’s still alive! Barely, but still.” 

They all hurried down the stairs and crowded around the elderly woman’s body. Mr. Sweet had removed itself from her collarbone, having no further use for a dying old woman. A large, oozing red hole was left in his place. 

“No! Mr. Sweet, where are you going?” Gillyflower cried weakly. “You can’t leave me now!” 

The clang of wood against metal caused Mark to look up the stairs. Ada was making her way down and he hurried up the steps to guide her. 

“Ada! Ada!” Gillyflower cried weakly. “My daughter. My only daughter, please forgive me.” 

Ada stopped in front of the dying woman and looked down with unseeing eyes, “I shall never forgive you.” 

Gillyflower let out a final choked up wheeze and they all watched as her eyes dulled and muscles relaxed. 

“So what’s the plan with the slug-thing?” Ethan asked, watching as Mr. Sweet crawled towards them. Most likely looking for a new host. 

_“Where is it?”_ Ada demanded, her cane swinging wildly until it came into contact with the leech. She screamed out and brought her cane down viciously. Beating the leech until it was a pulp on the concrete. 

As soon as she was finished she let out a breath and the rocket exploded overhead. 

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” Tyler chimed. 

\--

“Do you still want to go to London?” He asked, opening the TARDIS doors for Ethan. 

“Not if there’s more of those slugs,” Ethan shuddered, “besides, I think I could go without the three piece suit for a little while.” 

Mark laughed and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, “as you wish. Give me a minute and we can go home.” 

“Maybe I’ll just leave without you,” Ethan teased. 

“You wouldn’t leave your Marky behind would you?” He pouted. 

Ethan grinned and shook his head before leaning in to kiss him, “not a chance.” 

“Mark!” Sean called, standing a few feet away with the others, “can we talk for a minute?” 

He turned to Ethan, who was already waving him away. “I’ll be putting on real clothes if you need me.” 

He trudged towards Sean, Evelien and Tyler with his hands in his pockets. 

“Are you going to explain why you’re traveling with a dead man?” Sean asked pointedly. 

“More than traveling,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh, don’t think I didn’t notice that as well,” Sean added. “you two are about as discreet as Gillyflower’s rocket.” 

Mark grimaced and kicked at the rocks under his feet. “See, the thing about Ethan is -” 

He took off running back to the TARDIS, purposefully ignoring Sean’s loud, “oh fuck you, Mark!” Tyler and Evelien laughed and shouted their goodbyes as he closed the door behind him. 

“Well that was fun!” Ethan’s cheery voice stated. “Hope you don’t mind, I stole a pair of your shorts.” 

He was standing over a pile of his clothes, his Cars blanket draped over his shoulders. True to his word, Ethan was wearing a pair of Mark’s gym shorts. The drawstring pulled as tight as it could go and the shorts still sat low on Ethan’s hips. 

When he caught Mark staring, Ethan wrapped his blanket tighter around himself and gave him a sly smile. “We should see them more often. Your friends seem pretty cool.” 

“Oh I’m sure we’ll be seeing them more often than you think.” 

\--

**Portland, Maine, 2021.**

Ethan looked up from his breakfast as his phone vibrated on the table next to him. His eyebrow twitched up in interest when he saw his dad was calling him so early. Neither of them were morning people. 

He swallowed his mouthful of eggs and swiped his finger across his screen to answer the call, putting his dad on speaker. “Hey Dad, what’s up?” 

“Hey Kiddo, just called to talk. What’s your schedule for the day?” 

His eyes flickered to the calendar on the fridge and he squinted as he tried to read his rushed writing from earlier in the week, “um. nothing too intense, just a gender reveal and an engagement shoot in the evening.” 

His dad hummed, “do you watch the Burback boys today? Won’t the evening shoot be a problem?” 

“Nah, Mark’ll be here.” 

_“Who?”_

_Fuck. That’s what he forgot to do._ He’d completely forgotten to tell his parents about Mark. He covered his face with his hands and dragged them through his hair. 

“Oh? Did I not mention him the last time you called? Mark, the guy I’ve been seeing for a while now?” He said casually, cringing in anticipation for his dad’s reaction at keeping something so important from him. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever heard you mention him, Ethan.” 

Ethan grimaced at the parental tone his dad used. Even as a fully independent adult, his parents knew just how to make him feel like a little kid again. 

“Shit, my bad. Yeah, he’s a great guy. We’ll have to plan like, lunch or something together. You and Mom will love him.” 

“I’m sure.” 

There was fumbling on his dad’s end and his leg bounced anxiously, suddenly excited for the call to be over. 

“So, something interesting happened at work last night.” 

Ethan sighed in relief at his dad changing the topic of conversation away from Mark. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah… One of the new kids, a first year apprentice, he’s really into the Cold War. Y’know, the spying, the international politics, stuff like that. But he’s really into submarines, especially _Soviet submarines.”_

“Ok?” He swallowed nervously, his breakfast cold and long forgotten about in front of him. There was something off in the tone of his dad’s voice and it put Ethan on edge. 

**“** Well, I’ve taken him under my wing, you know. Really make sure that he learns all he needs to know. We’ll talk throughout the day, and he’s around your age, so I mentioned to him how I have a son his age. I showed him a picture of you and your brother from not too long ago. He frowns and goes, ‘your son looks really familiar.’ So, I asked him if maybe you went to school together. He told me he’s from out of state, New Hampshire or some shit. But that’s not important.” 

There was static on the other end of the line and Ethan couldn’t ignore the pit that he felt in his stomach. He’d never heard his dad sound so far away in thought before. He locked eyes on his car keys, sitting just a few feet away by the front door. _He’d be able to get to his parents house fast enough._

“Dad are you, ok?” He interrupted. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, Ethan. But what is important is that the next day, he comes up to me and says, ‘I knew your son looked familiar,’ and shows me a photo. It’s from a Soviet expedition to the North Pole. Dated 1983. _Ethan Mark Nestor, how the fuck are you in a photo from the Cold War?”_

Ethan dropped his fork in shock and felt his whole body go cold. His chest felt tight and his ears were ringing. “Um, uh, I-” 

“Don’t you dare tell me that it’s photoshopped, or that it isn’t you! This isn’t some photo from the internet, and _I know damn well what my son looks like._ ” 

“D-Dad I can explain!” 

“Oh I bet you can. You can also explain who the other guy in the photo with you is. Am I wrong in assuming it’s this Mark guy you’re seeing?” 

Ethan was at a loss over what to say. His hands were shaking and he couldn’t form any words. How was he supposed to tell his parents about Mark? _About the TARDIS?_ They would never believe him. 

“Ethan?” 

“I’m here, just - I don’t know what to say.” 

“You can start with the truth.” 

He choked out a laugh, “Dad I don’t think you’d believe me.” 

“Well then I think you better phone your clients and tell them that you’re going to have to reschedule for today.” 

“W-what? Why?” 

“Because I think it’s time your Mother and I paid you a visit so we can get some answers about what our son has been up to.” 

“I’m sorry, Dad.” He almost whispered.

His dad had never spoken to him like this before. Not when he told them he wanted to quit gymnastics, or when he told them he wasn’t going to go to college. He felt exposed and vulnerable. Ethan bit the inside of his cheek to keep him from crying.

“Ethan, I’m not mad.” His dad sighed over the phone. “Well, I am mad. But I just want to make sure that my son is safe. If it was your brother in this situation, he and I would be having the exact same conversation. And I would make him fly home so we could talk face-to-face. I know you’re an adult. But I’m still your dad, and I care about you.” 

“I know. I’m just really sorry.” 

“You can tell me about it when we get there, ok?” 

“Ok.” 

“We’ll see you soon, Ethan.” 

His dad ended the call and Ethan slumped against the counter. He weakly beat his fist on the hard counter top and groaned loudly. 

Cape Elizabeth wasn’t far away by any means. It meant that Ethan only had maybe half an hour at most before they arrived. 

He quickly typed out emails to his clients for today, apologizing for cancelling on such short notice and offered them a refund or to reschedule. He didn’t bother to check to see if they replied because he was too busy pacing around his living room. 

Mark had been gone for a few hours now, doing whatever Time Lords did. That was going to make it difficult to explain who Mark was without him here. What made it worse was that Ethan had no way of getting into contact with him. Mark didn’t have a phone, and Ethan had lost the number for the TARDIS months ago. 

He caught sight of himself in the mirror hanging on the wall and grimaced. He looked like a mess. He hadn’t showered yet and was still in his pajamas. Ethan quickly hurried into his room and pulled drawers open, desperately needing to look presentable for his parents. 

Ethan stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Mark’s sonic screwdriver on the bedside table. _He must have forgotten it when he left._

It was unusual that Mark hadn’t come back to get it, but maybe he just didn’t need it. 

Ethan lunged for it and gripped the cold metal tool in his palm, frantically trying to figure out how to turn it on. Mark had made it look so easy, with just the flick of his wrist the stupid metal stick would whir to life. 

He must have done something right because the sonic started to admit a loud, high-pitched whirring sound. Ethan dropped it in surprise and covered his ears, the loud screech drilling into his brain. 

As quickly as the noise had started, it stopped. The green light at the tip of the sonic dulled and Ethan tried to shake the ringing out of his ears as he leaned down to pick it up. 

The familiar wheeze of the TARDIS caused him to perk up and before he had a chance to head towards the back door, he could hear the sliding door being slammed open, followed by Mark’s panicked voice, _“Ethan!”_

Mark’s footsteps ran down the hallway and Ethan almost collided into him. 

Mark grabbed at his shoulders and looked him up and down. “Are you ok? What’s going on?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. The sonic just blew out my eardrum though.” 

Mark sagged against him and pulled him into his chest, “you idiot, that was the sonic’s SOS signal. I thought you were dying.” 

“Well, we might be in about 20 minutes,” he sighed, leaning into Mark. “My parents are on their way over.” 

Mark frowned, “how is that the end of the world?” 

“Funny thing, Dad found a photo of the two of us from that Russian sub.” 

“First of all, _Soviet_ submarine. Second, oh shit.” 

Ethan ignored Mark’s correction and tried to bury himself in Mark’s chest. Maybe if he tried hard enough he could shrink down and hide in Mark’s pocket. When that surprisingly didn’t happen, Ethan focused on the smooth fabric of the suit Mark was wearing and how cool it was against his hot face. “Might as well keep this on, babe. First impressions are important after all.” 

Mark sighed and kissed him on the top of his head. “Everything will be ok, Eth.” 

He snorted, “I can imagine it now: _Hi Mom! Hi Dad! This is Mark, he’s my alien boyfriend with a magic time machine box!”_

“And? What’s wrong with that?” 

Ethan blinked, “are you for real? Have you ever met anyone’s parents before?” 

“Um no? I’ve never really had the need to.” 

Ethan let go of Mark and went back to getting dressed, “well I can tell you that that will absolutely not work.” 

“But it’s the truth? I am your alien boyfriend and the TARDIS is a time machine.” 

Ethan sighed as he pulled a turtleneck over his head, “but most people on earth don’t believe in that shit. Time travel and aliens are things from the movies.” 

“You believed it.” 

“Yeah well, I had my soul sucked out of me by a robot demon-child, _twice._ Kinda hard to ignore that one.” 

Mark took off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up before sitting down on the bed, “I might still have parts from one of the base stations in the TARDIS if you want me to boot it up.” 

Ethan glared at him while he struggled to put his socks on, “you’re kidding right?” 

Mark wilted slightly at his aggression and rubbed at the back of his neck, “yeah, sorry. Probably not the time for that right?” 

He let out an agitated sigh, angry with himself for taking out his frustration on Mark. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just really stressed and I took it out on you, which was inappropriate.” 

Mark frowned at him and held his arms out, “c’mere, someone needs a hug.” 

It took Ethan less than three strides to be in front of Mark. He swiftly climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of Mark’s waist and fell into his arms. “I always want hugs,” he mumbled into Mark’s neck. 

Mark hummed in agreement and tightly wrapped his arms around Ethan’s back before leaning the two of them back on Ethan’s bed. 

“My parents are gonna be here soon,” he reminded, playing with a stray lock of Mark’s hair. 

“You can’t answer the door like this, Eth.” Mark said gently, rubbing his strong hands up and down Ethan’s back. “Just try and calm down. Take a few deep breaths. You and I have been in much more dangerous positions before. I’m sure our combined brain cell can handle your parents.” 

Ethan nodded and closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythmic beating of Mark’s hearts and the movements of his hand. 

He felt the knot in his chest unravel and took in a deep breath, letting himself relax further into Mark’s hold. 

The loud ring of his doorbell had him shooting up out of Mark’s grasp and biting at his nails. “Oh my god, I didn’t think that they would get here so soon. What are we gonna do?” 

“Hey, hey,” Mark grasped at his wrist and kissed his wrist bone, “we’ll be ok. We’ll do what we always do.” 

“Wing it?” 

Mark grinned, “exactly. Now let’s go meet your parents.” 

Ethan straightened himself out and tried to fix his hair on the way to the front door. He could see the outline of his parents through the frosted glass in his front door and hesitated for a second before he opened the door. 

“Hi,” he said meekly, letting his parents inside. 

“How’re you, Ethan?” His mother asked, pulling him in for a hug. 

“I’m doing alright. How was the drive?” 

She let him go and scoffed, “at this time of day? The roads were empty.”

“That’s good, Mom.” 

He shuffled his feet nervously and turned to his dad, “hey Dad.” 

“Hey, Ethan.” 

His dad pulled him into a hug and he relaxed at the casual attitude that both his parents had. As if they were just over for a casual visit, instead of the shake-down over his love life that he was anticipating. 

“Oh you must be Mark, I’m Ethan’s mother!” 

He tensed up slightly and turned around to see his mom pulling Mark into a hug as if they were old friends. 

Mark looked at him with panic in his eyes before he cautiously hugged back. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” 

Next was the moment Ethan had been dreading. His mom let Mark go and went to the kitchen, complaining about how his dad hadn’t stopped for coffee. 

Mark extended his hand out for his father and offered a kind smile, “nice to meet you, sir, I’m Mark, Ethan’s boyfriend.” 

Ethan watched as his dad assessed Mark before reaching out to shake his hand, much more firmly than Ethan was used to seeing. “Good to meet you.”

“I’m surprised Ethan never told us about you before!” His mother yelled from the kitchen. Ethan could hear the Keurig warming up. “He’s normally awful at keeping secrets, especially from his father.” 

Ethan grimaced and looked at his dad, who had a carefully neutral expression on his face. “I guess it just never got brought up? I mean, we’ve only been together for a few months an-” 

“Oh, Ethan you don’t have to explain yourself,” his mother waved her hand around idly, “I’m only teasing.” 

“But you do have something to explain,” his dad stated, ushering them into the kitchen and pulling out his wallet. “Explain to me how the two of you are in this photo that was taken well before you were born.” 

He pulled an aged photograph out of his wallet and unfolded it. Ethan cringed, there was no denying the fact that it was him and Mark. The only difference was that Mark’s hair was much shorter in the photo. It was taken inside the captain’s quarters of the sub. Ethan was still wearing the grimy blanket the crewman had given him. Mark and the Captain mid-conversation. He couldn’t even remember the photo being taken. But here it was, staring back at him from his kitchen island. Both his parents looked at the two of them expectantly. 

“There’s no point in lying,” Mark started, leaning up against the counter with his hands in his pockets. “I’m not human.” 

_“Excuse me?”_ Ethan’s dad looked at Mark like he had grown a second head. 

Mark merely shrugged it off, “I’m not. My name’s the Doctor, I’m a Time Lord from Gallifrey and I’m a time traveler.” 

The kitchen fell into silence as Mark and his dad stared at each other. His mom standing awkwardly in between them with her cup of coffee. 

“Dad, he’s not lying.” He mustered up the courage to say. “I swear he isn’t lying.” 

“This is some joke right? That the two of you are pulling on us? This isn’t funny, Ethan.” 

He shook his head and ran a stressed hand through his hair, “it really isn’t.” 

“If you don’t believe us, I’ll show you,” Mark said casually, “I’ll show you the TARDIS.” 

“The what?” 

“Time and Relative Dimension in Space,” Ethan recited, “it’s a time traveling spaceship. It’s in the backyard.” 

Ethan followed Mark to the back door and purposefully didn’t look back to see if his parents were following. The sound of footsteps behind him was a relief, as he and Mark stood on either side of the TARDIS. 

His dad stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the TARDIS. “I’ve seen this thing before.” 

His mom looked at the TARDIS curiously and frowned, “it does seem familiar, doesn’t it?” 

Ethan looked at Mark, confused, “how is that possible?” 

Mark shrugged and ran a hand through his hair, “the TARDIS has been caught in photos before. It happens when you save the world on a regular basis. But, police phone boxes were a real thing that existed. Not in the US, but in the UK. Maybe you saw it in an old movie or something.” 

“But, this isn’t a spaceship, this is an old phone box.” His mom muttered, “I don’t see how this explains anything.” 

Almost scarily in sync, both he and Mark snapped his fingers and the doors to the TARDIS flew open. They looked at each other for a brief moment, sharing a small smile before heading inside. 

Ethan leaned against the railing in the console room and watched as his mom’s eyes flew open in shockt, her arm reaching out to grab at his dad’s shirt. “ _Oh my god!”_

His dad looked around the TARDIS as if in a daze. Like he couldn’t process what he was seeing. 

“I don’t understand,” he heard his dad mutter as he walked further inside, his head swiveling around to try and look at everything. “It doesn’t make sense, it’s just a wooden box.” 

“It’s the most powerful spaceship in the universe,” Mark boasted, standing at the console, “it can take us anywhere in time and space. And your son can fly it.” 

Both of his parents stared at him with their jaws slack, “this can’t be real.” 

He nodded his head and walked over to stand next to Mark, who slid a comforting arm around his waist, “it’s a lot to take in, but once you get used to it, it’s incredible. I’ll show you.” 

He turned to face the console and took in a deep breath before he programmed the TARDIS to take them into lunar orbit. “Hold onto something.” 

The sounds of the TARDIS wheezing to life and the doors closing had his parents stumbling to the railing. Ethan stood steady-footed next to Mark and chewed nervously at his lip until the wheezing stopped and he could see the earth in the monitor. 

“Open the doors,” he told his parents, who both looked motion sick. 

His mom looked at him skeptically before cautiously approaching the doors and cracking it open. 

She gasped and yanked the door open wider, leaning outside into the silence of outer space. “This is impossible!”

His dad hurried over and looked outside in wonder, “but how are we breathing?” 

“The TARDIS produces its own oxygen,” Mark answered, “same thing with its own gravity stabilizers.” 

“Do you believe us now, dad?” He quipped, feeling more confident inside the TARDIS with Mark at his side. 

His dad stared out at the earth for a little while longer, watching as the earth orbited silently below them. He saw the way his parents drifted closer together, whispering to one another, their arms snaking around each other's waists. Ethan understood the feeling. He and Mark spend hours wrapped up in each other, just staring into the vastness of whatever galaxy the TARDIS takes them too.

Ethan and Mark let his parents have their moment, processing what was happening. Eventually, his dad left his mom at the doors and slowly walked back up to them with his hands in his pockets, “what does an alien want with my son?” 

“I’ve been travelling on my own for so long and Ethan’s special, something just drew me to him.” 

“I know my son is special. But you said you’re an alien from a planet I’ve never heard of. How did you manage to find my son if you have the entire universe at your fingertips?” 

Mark stared earnestly at his dad and shrugged, “I don’t know why, I just know who. Ever since Ethan started traveling with me, I’ve felt more alive than I have in centuries. He pulled me out of a dark place in my life. I would do anything to hear him smile and laugh. Mr. Nestor, I love your son. I’d put his life before mine without a second thought.” 

He felt his lip quiver at Mark’s declaration and couldn’t help as he slipped his hand into Mark’s and felt how clammy it was. He furrowed his brow and carefully took in Mark’s demeanor. He was holding himself stiffer than he normally would and there was sweat beading at his hairline. _Mark was scared._

It took Ethan a minute to realize it, but when he did, he instantly gave Mark’s hand a tight squeeze and leaned in a little closer until their arms were touching. 

Mark was scared that his parents wouldn’t like him. That they would disapprove of their intergalactic relationship, or whatever it was. The thought made his heart melt and he looked back at his dad with as much truth and honestly that he could. “And I would do the same for Mark. I know we haven’t known each other that long in the grand scheme of things, but I’ve never loved anyone like I do with Mark.” 

His dad pursed his lips into a fine line and sighed, “is Ethan in any danger, being with you?” 

Ethan had to suppress the instinct to snort at the question. 

“Every time he steps foot on board this ship with me, he’s in danger.” Mark told him, “the universe is a big place and after doing what I do for as long as I have, you make a few enemies. But trust me when I say that I have done everything in my power to keep him safe. And will continue to do so until the day he dies.” 

His dad nodded his head and the corner of his lip twitched up, “you haven’t answered my question yet. What were you two doing on a Soviet submarine?” 

The return of his dad’s casual demeanor relieved some of the tension out of Ethan’s chest. Somehow it seemed as though his parents were coming around to the idea that he was gallivanting around space with Mark. 

“Obviously we were saving the world from an intergalactic nuclear war,” Mark said casually, tossing the sonic up and down in his hand. 

Ethan snorted at Mark’s bluntness and turned back to the console, not bothering to listen to his dad’s reaction. The twins would be done school soon and time machine or not, Ethan hated resetting his watch to correct their traveling. 

“I’m taking us back home,” he announced. 

With deft hands he set to work calibrating the TARDIS to take them back to his backyard. 

The TARDIS wheezed to life and this time he actually watched his parents' reaction as they returned to the earth. His mother was enraptured, her eyes trying to take in as much as she could as she held onto the railing. His father in deep conversation with Mark, most likely discovering their mutual love of outer space.

As soon as the TARDIS landed, it opened the doors for his mother and she turned back to them in surprise before looking up to the ceiling to thank the TARDIS. It wheezed back at her and Mark laughed gleefully at his mom’s excited reaction. His dad gently ushered her out of the TARDIS with a hand on her back and he and Mark brought up the rear. 

“Well that went better than I expected,” he confessed. 

“I have no idea what you were so worried about, Eth. That went great. At least I think it did.” 

Ethan grabbed at Mark’s fingers and smiled at him, “yeah, that went really great. I thought there would be more yelling or some shit like that because, well aliens and shit.” 

Mark shrugged at him, a lopsided grin on his face, “you should give your parents more credit.” 

Mark grabbed at his belt loops and quickly pulled him in to kiss his temple, “I’ll get the boys today, you stay here and spend time with your parents.” 

“Don’t let Eddy convince you to take them to a corner store for candy again,” he warned, pointing a finger at Mark. “The last time was awful and I don’t know if my parents are staying for supper. I don’t wanna deal with two hyper 12 year olds. 

Mark scoffed, a glint in his eye, “who said it was Eddy’s idea?” 

Ethan’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline at Mark’s confession and before he had time to press Mark on it further, he had already weaseled his way out the front door. 

\--

Mark had a skip in his step as he walked towards the twins’ bus stop at the end of the subdivision. He waved to the usual parents that showed up early to chat with each other and assumed the usual pickup spot that Ethan had established with the boys under a nearby tree. 

He was surprised at how fast the group of parents had stopped looking at him wearily when he had first started showing up to pick up the twins. Ethan had told him that they were a tight knit group of parents and it had taken them a while to warm up to him. He’d shocked Ethan the first time he had come home with an invitation to attend a weekend BBQ. He had simply assumed that it was because he looked older than Ethan and more trustworthy. That assumption had had Ethan giggling as he told him that it was more likely that they were attracted to him. 

Ever since then, Mark had stayed to himself, unwilling to find out if Ethan was right. It was much easier to stay ‘quiet and mysterious.’ Mark smirked to himself at the memory of Ethan bursting out laughing one night on the couch, his phone falling out of his hands onto his lap. When Mark had asked why he was laughing, Ethan had told him between gasping for breath that the bus stop’s Facebook group had started referring to him as such. He had cringed at that and it had only set Ethan off further, laughing until his face turned purple and he had started coughing as a result. 

He checked his watch just as the school bus drove around the corner. Parents flocked to the curb while Mark stayed right where he was, knowing better than to get into the middle of that mess. 

The younger children were off first, taking careful steps down onto the ground before toddling towards their parents. Their backpacks were almost as big as they were. 

Eventually, Mark caught sight of Tony’s bright jacket coming out of the bus followed quickly by Eddy. He caught their attention and signaled them over. 

“Hi Mark!” 

“Hey guys, how was school?” He asked, taking their backpacks and slinging them, one over each shoulder. 

“Boring.” 

“The usual.” 

They set back off towards Ethan’s and Mark listened as the two brothers talked about their school day and the stuff that other kids had done. 

“Is Ethan at work?” Tony asked. 

“No, his parents came over so he’s spending some time with them.” 

“So no pizza?” 

Mark laughed and shook his head as they walked through the quiet suburb, “maybe, Ethan’s parents might not want pizza, Eddy.” 

Eddy was as scandalized as a 12 year old could be, “who doesn’t like pizza?” 

“It’s been a big day for Ethan and his parents so they might not want pizza tonight.” 

Eddy pouted, but nodded his head, “do Ethan’s parents know that you’re an alien?” 

Mark snorted, finding it amusing in the back of his mind that the twins found out about him before Ethan’s parents did. “They do now.” 

“Did they get to go into the TARDIS?” 

Mark nodded his head, “yes they did.” 

“Can we take a trip in it tonight before Dad comes and gets us?” 

“If Ethan says it’s ok we can go to the moon again. How does that sound?” Knowing easily how to appease the twins. 

“Wicked!” 

As soon as Ethan’s house was in sight, Tony and Eddy took off, wanting to be the first one to say hi to Ethan. He kept his leisurely pace and stopped at the mailbox at the end of the driveway to collect Ethan’s mail. 

Mark frowned when he saw a small package with Sean’s writing on it. The wax seal and Queen Victoria stamp a dead giveaway. It was addressed to Ethan and had something small inside. He pulled out the rest of the mail and flipped the arm down before heading inside. 

Now Mark wasn’t someone to snoop, but he was curious to know what was so important that Sean had sent to Ethan almost 125 years ago. Especially when he could get into contact through the TARDIS. 

He walked through the front door that the twins had left open, still staring at the package. Mark kicked his shoes off and set the twins bags down before heading into the chaos in the kitchen. 

Ethan was being attacked by the twins. He had managed to throw Eddy over his shoulder, but was struggling to walk with Tony wrapped around his leg. While his parents were watching with barely concealed amusement from the other side of the kitchen island. 

“We will win the pizza war!” Eddy shouted, kicking his legs around as Ethan struggled to stand up right. 

Mark smiled before easily taking Eddy from an exasperated Ethan and tossing him over onto the couch. Eddy popped back up almost instantly and laughed, “do that again!” 

“Who’s side are you on, Mark?” Tony demanded as he was dragged behind Ethan. 

“We all know he’s on my side, Tony!” Ethan said dramatically. 

A sudden weight from behind him nearly had him toppling over as Mark hadn’t realized Eddy had climbed on the back of the couch and latched onto his back. 

“I sure don’t miss those days,” he heard Ethan’s dad tell his mother. 

“Those days are well behind us,” his mother replied fondly. 

It took him a second to realize what they meant. But as he caught Ethan’s tired smile as Tony continued weighing him down, they meant having young kids. 

Mark felt like he had fallen into ice cold water at the realization that he wanted that with Ethan. But that would be nearly impossible. Ethan was 24 and Mark was more than 1100 years old. Ethan would age and Mark wouldn’t, he would simply regenerate. Mark staggered back slightly, ignoring Eddy’s encouraged shout and looked at Ethan who had a concerned look on his face. 

Mark shot him a quick smile and decided that any time with Ethan would be enough. He would be foolish to let something like that interfere with his relationship. So with a burst of energy, he shook Eddy off of him and loudly declared himself the winner. 

That only encouraged Tony to let go of Ethan to help Eddy. The two of them ganged up on him, latching onto any part of him that they could. He could hardly feel their weight as he saw the fond look on Ethan’s face from the corner of his eye. 

Regardless of what their future would be, being here in this moment, having Ethan look at him like that was more than enough. 

\--

**London, England, 1893.**

Sean moved silently through the dirty cell blocks of Bethlam as the superintendent led him expertly past cell after cell. The chatter of the insane echoed throughout the otherwise quiet cell block. A few lunatics shushed themselves as he walked by, cowering away and covering their faces with dirty hands. The closer they got to the end of the cell block, the louder the chatter became. It wasn’t until they were standing in front of the last cell that he realized all the chatter had been one man. 

The superintendent held the oil lamp closer to the iron bars so Sean could see the man inside. “Here he is, Detective. Clarence DeMarco.” 

“If you hear the Whisper Men, then turn away your ears. Do not hear the Whisper Men, whatever else you fear. For once you hear those Whisper Men, they’ll stop and kill who you hold dear.” 

Sean’s brows furrowed at the man’s muttering. He took a step closer to the cell and peered inside to see a haggard and dirty man sitting in the back of his cell. He was restrained by a thick metal collar around his neck that was fastened to the wall, forcing his chin up. His hands and ankles were chained, heavily limiting his movement any further. 

“The chains seem a bit barbaric don’t you think?” He scoffed, taking in the filth that the man was forced to live in. 

“Not with this one,” the superintendent responded, a look of disgust on his face. “Lunacy doesn’t even begin to describe DeMarco’s defects. He has an entire casebook dedicated to his misbehaving.” 

The man suddenly snapped out of whatever trance he was in and the loud rattle of chains almost made him flinch. 

“You!” DeMarco shrieked, “you have the power to free me from the noose with one word!” 

“Then you can count on my silence,” he said calmly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his coat. 

“But I have information, valuable information!” He insisted, almost choking himself as he learned too far forward in his urgency. 

“You’re trying to bargain for your life?” He said darkly, “you murdered fourteen women. Not even the Devil would bargain with you.” 

“The Doctor!” DeMarco hissed out, no traces of sanity on his face in the dimly lit cell. “I know all about him! Your dangerous friend. He who has far more blood on his hands than I.” 

Sean stayed silent, not giving away any inclination to the lunatic. 

There was an excited chuckle that came from the cell, “in the babble of the world, there are whispers, _if you know how to listen._ The Doctor has a secret you know. _”_

Sean couldn’t hold himself quiet any longer, “he has many secrets.” 

“But this one he will take to his grave! And it is discovered!” 

He looked over DeMarco one last time before signalling to the superintendent that he was ready to leave. 

DeMarco shrieked in delight as they left, “It is discovered!” 

His maniacal laughter caused a chain reaction in the remaining cells as other lunatics rattled their chains and shrieked along with him. The superintendent whacked at the bars of each cell, demanding that inmates be quiet. It wasn’t very effective, and as soon as they reached the end of the cellblock, other Bethlam attendants stormed past them with further restraints and muzzles. 

He thanked the superintendent and informed him that he would be in touch regarding DeMarco’s fate. 

Evelien and Tyler were waiting for him in the institution's courtyard in front of their carriage. Both of them lost their cheery grins when they saw the grim look on his face, “we need to get home, immediately.” 

Tyler nodded his head and assisted Evelien into the carriage before hopping up into the driver’s seat. Sean entered the carriage and pulled the door closed just as they started moving. He slid the partition open so Tyler could hear their conversation. 

“He has to live until I get all the information out of him.” 

“But Sean, he’s a serial killer,” Tyler stated the obvious. 

“I’m aware of that Tyler, but we’re going to need a conference call to discuss what DeMarco said. I’ll write out the invitations while you and Evelien get the candles.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He turned back to Evelien who flinched and looked over her shoulder, like she expected someone to be there. He cocked his head to the side in concern and reached out to take her gloved hand, “everything alright?” 

She looked at him with wide eyes and quickly nodded her head, “yes, I must just be hearing things.” 

\--

Ethan sighed loudly and gave his mom a pointed look. “Mother, that is not how I remember the souffle recipe.” 

His mom looked at him confused as she slid the ramekin in the oven, “Ethan, that’s how I’ve always made this recipe.” 

“But you never told me you had to separate the egg whites!” He insisted, his voice going up an octave. 

His mother gave him an incredulous look, “are you kidding? Of course you separate the yolk from the whites! Please tell me you haven’t just put the entire egg in at once!” 

He held his face in his hands and groaned, “I can’t believe it.” 

“Maybe that’s why none of your souffles ever turn out, Eth!” Mark joked from the couch where he and his dad had turned on Thursday Night Football. He heard his dad snort loudly from next to Mark and gave them an angry glare before flipping them off. “Fuck off, like you idiots could do any better.” 

“I’ve failed as a mother,” his mom sighed, setting a timer for the souffle. “Thank god the Burback boys went home so they don’t have to hear your sailor mouth.” 

He rolled his eyes and sat down on one of the stools by the island. “Wait, so what do you do with the eggs?” 

“Not whatever you’re doing.” 

Ethan gave his mom a deadpan stare and shook his head, “I got that part.” 

She laughed fondly and lightheartedly threw a dish towel at him, “just start cleaning up this mess and we can go over the recipe together.” 

He caught the towel in midair and slung it over his shoulder before he started putting away the ingredients. As he rounded the island to put away the flour and sugar he caught sight of an odd looking package amongst his usual bills and junk mail. 

He set the flour and sugar on the counter and pulled out the package, frowning when he caught sight of a wax seal embossed with _SM_. The paper was thick, aged and in a handwriting that he didn’t recognize. 

He wandered back towards his room with the package held delicately in his hands. He kicked the door closed behind him and sat down on his bed, thumbing over the shiny red wax. Ethan cracked the seal, surprised by how much effort it took and jumped a little when something fell onto his lap as he unfolded the worn paper. It cracked after holding its shape for so long and Ethan squinted at the cursive, desperately trying to think back to elementary school when he was taught how to read it. 

_Ethan,_

_Mark entrusted us with your contact details in the event of an emergency. I fear one has risen._

Ethan’s eyes widened and he looked up at the sounds of Mark and his dad shouting at the TV before he hurried to continue reading. 

_Assuming this letter has reached you on April 22nd 2021, please find and light the enclosed candle._

Ethan’s free hand closed around the candle in his lap and he held it up to his face. 

_It will release fumes that will put you in a trance-like state, enabling communication across the years._

He squawked in fear and tossed the candle across the room, quickly wiping his hand on his jeans. 

_However, as I realize that you have no reason to trust this letter (assuming you’re as smart as Mark claims) I have taken the liberty of infusing the very same fumes into the fibres of the paper you’re holding._

_Speak soon,_

_Sean & Evelien. _

Ethan felt his eyes flutter shut and felt the sensation of falling before he was suddenly caught by the firm back of a wooden chair. 

He gasped loudly at his surroundings, Sean, Evelien and Tyler were all sat with him around a large table in a dimly lit, ornate room. 

“So glad you could make it,” Sean grinned at him, offering him a cup of tea. 

He took the cup carefully and looked around cautiously, “where am I?” 

“Exactly where you were, but sleeping.” Evelien said as she cheerily sipped her tea. “Time travel is always possible in dreams.” 

Ethan jumped as another person appeared in the last remaining chair. She was around the same age he was with dark wavy hair and a friendly smile on her face. 

“Hello, Sean,” she said, already reaching out for her cup of tea, as if she’d done this before. 

“Miss Nelson,” Sean nodded his head in hello, “so glad you could make it. It’s always a pleasure.” 

The young woman admired their surroundings before her eyes landed on Ethan. She frowned and her eyes flickered over to Sean. 

“It appears you two haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet. This is Ethan, Mark’s current partner.” Sean waved his hand in Ethan’s direction. 

Ethan gave her a small wave and he reached his hand over, “nice to meet you.” 

She extended her hand out and Ethan was surprised at how solid her hand felt, given that they were in a dream. “Amy Nelson, Mark might’ve mentioned me before.” 

The name sounded familiar and he distantly remembered Mark mentioning an adventure with Bob and Wade that she had been a part of. 

“Yeah, Mark’s mentioned you before. I’ve just never had a face to put to the name.” 

“As nice as this is,” Sean but in, “we need to get down to business.” 

He waved his hand in the air and a man’s face appeared above the table. “Clarence DeMarco. Murderer, sentenced to execution. Currently incarcerated in Bethlam. He gave me this piece of information in exchange for his life.” 

The image shifted to resemble the symbols that Ethan was slowly learning were Gallifreyan in nature. 

“Space-time coordinates,” Amy said, carefully examining them. 

Sean crossed his arms over his chest, “according to DeMarco, this is the location of Mark’s greatest secret.” 

“Well what is it?” He asked, tapping his fingers against the warm porcelain teacup. 

“We don’t know, it’s a secret,” Tyler said. “Mark isn’t in the habit of telling people his secrets.” 

Ethan shook his head, “he and I have a deal, _no more secrets._ I can just ask him -” 

“Ethan, calm down. I don’t mean to offend or upset you, but there are some secrets that Mark will keep to his grave. These secrets are kept secret for the benefit of the universe.” Sean reached across the table and rested his hand on top of his briefly, “it’s nothing personal, it’s for the greater good.” 

“Sean what kind of information did this man give you that was significant enough for you to spare this man’s life?” Amy asked, a serious look on her face. “It had to be more than just coordinates.” 

Sean looked between everyone apprehensively before he sighed deeply, “one word. It is something that I’ve heard in connection to Mark before. Trenzalore.” 

The colour drained from Amy’s face and she looked taken aback before she leaned forward, “how exactly did he present the information he was giving you?” 

“ _The Doctor has a secret you know. This one he will take to his grave. It is discovered.”_

Amy stared wide-eyed at the coordinates and carefully looked around at everyone, “I think you misunderstood.”

“Sean!” Evelien said all of a sudden, reaching over to grasp Sean’s forearm, “I just realized I forgot to lock the door-” 

“It doesn’t matter, Evelien,” Sean said offhandedly, not looking at her, focusing instead on Amy. “What am I misunderstanding?” 

Ethan watched as Evelien became more nervous and panicked. She was shivering and twitching so violently that the table shook. He wanted to leave his chair to try and reassure her, but found that he was unable to move. 

“I should’ve locked the door before we went into our trance-” 

_“Evelien, it doesn’t matter!”_

_“Yes it does!”_ Evelien slammed her fist down on the table as tears rolled down her cheeks, “someone’s broken in. There’s someone with us! I can hear them!” 

Sean’s eyes widened as he finally noticed Eveliens’s demeanor and he reached over to grasp her hand that was balled so tightly into a fist that her knuckles had turned white. “Evelien are you alright?” 

Evelien went rigid in her chair and took in an uneven breath, her skin becoming pale and waxen, “I’m so sorry, so sorry my love, but I think I’ve been murdered.” 

Ethan gasped as Evelien’s body started to fade from view and looked over at Sean in alarm. “What’s going on?” 

“Evelien can you hear me?” Sean pleaded, his hand phasing through her arm onto the table. “ _Evelien!”_

“You need to wake up!” Amy insisted, “you’re being attacked!” 

“I’m sorry about this,” she reached across the table and slapped Sean in the face. Her hand continued through the empty space where Sean had been as soon as she made contact. 

“You too, Tyler! You need to help them!” In a fluid motion, Amy reached for her tea and threw it in Tyler’s face. He lingered for a moment longer than Sean did before he, too, disappeared. 

Ethan yelled as faceless men in suits started pouring in through the walls. Finding himself able to stand, he and Amy ended up back to back as the men bared their sharp teeth. Each one of them whispering, “tell the Doctor,” in a disturbing breathy tone. 

“Whisper Men,” Amy said, breathless. 

“Tell him what?” He demanded. 

The coordinates still hovering over the table shifted into the face of a sneering old man. “Tell the Doctor that his friends are lost forever more, unless he goes to Trenzalore.” 

“He can’t go there,” Amy rushed out, breathless. “You know he can’t go there. The Doctor can never go to Trenzalore.” 

_“Ethan?”_

He flinched and looked over his shoulder at the distant sound of Mark’s voice. Before he could look back to Amy he was shooting up in his bed, Sean’s letter clutched tightly in his fist. 

His head shot to the door as it was pushed open and Mark’s head popped in, “hey your parents are getting ready to lea- _are you alright_ _?”_

Ethan shook his head and brought his hand up to rub at his eyes, “um, I think so.” 

Mark frowned and closed the door beside him. He quickly knelt down next to the bed and placed a concerned hand on Ethan’s forehead, “are you feeling ok? Are you sick?” 

“No,” he assured, sitting up slightly. “But something’s wrong.” 

Mark’s frown deepened and he looked down at Ethan’s clenched fist, “does it have to do with Sean’s letter?” 

He nodded his head grimly and went to hand Mark the paper. 

Mark shook his head and placed his hand over Ethan’s. “I don’t care how urgent it is. We’ll talk about it once your parents leave. I’m sure telling them whatever this is, after your dad’s been giving thinly-veiled threats about your safety to me all afternoon, is not a good idea.” 

He slowly nodded his head and unclenched his fist, letting the paper fall onto the comforter. “Did the souffle at least turn out ok?” 

Mark gave him an exacerbated smile, “yes, your mom’s souffle turned out great. I’m glad I finally got to experience what it’s supposed to taste like.” 

“You know what? I actually don’t like you,” he grumbled as he got out of bed. 

Mark chuckled and pulled him in for a hug, “you’re alright. You get partial credit for helping I guess.” 

“Hey!” 

He wiggled out of Mark’s hold and looked himself over in the mirror before he opened his door and headed out to the kitchen. The quiet hum of Mark’s amused laughter causing the corner of his lips to twitch upward. 

The familiar smell of souffle hit his nostrils and he breathed it in deeply. After so many failed attempts, he had almost forgotten what it was supposed to smell like. His eyebrows raised in surprise when he saw the time displayed on the stove, a good few hours later than when he had gone into his room. He hadn’t realized how long he had been out for. 

Both his parents were in the living room with their jackets on, talking between one another. His dad caught sight of him first. “There he is! That was quite a long nap you took kiddo.” 

He laughed nervously and scratched at the back of his neck, “yeah, I guess I must’ve needed the sleep.” 

His mom gave him a kind smile as he approached them and pulled him into a hug, “don’t work yourself too hard.” 

“No guarantees, it’s almost fishing season. That means filming more license PSA’s for the Warden’s Office,” he joked. 

“Oh there’s an idea!” His mom let him go and looked excitedly over at his dad, “maybe you can take the boys out fishing once the season starts? Show Mark what Maine has to offer?” 

“We’d have to stay on land for that, I’m afraid,” Mark said sheepishly, “I’m not the biggest fan of the ocean.” 

“Would Mark need a fishing license for that? How would we get him a fishing license? He’s not a resident of any state.” Ethan looked over to his dad for the answer. 

His dad shrugged, “if you’re serious about it, I’m sure we’ll figure something out. I taught you and your brother how to fish when you were younger, I’m sure I can teach Mark.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, “are you guys ready to head out?” 

Both his parents nodded and his dad fished out the keys for his truck, “ready whenever your mother is.” 

“Of course, it’s always me he’s waiting for,” his mother joked as she went to hug Mark goodbye. “It was so nice getting to meet you.” 

Mark hugged her back and gave her a warm smile, “it was nice to meet you too.” 

They waited in the open entryway until Ethan’s parents had driven off. As soon as the door closed, Mark pulled out Sean’s letter from his back pocket and tried to flatten out the paper on his way to the island. “So what happened?” 

“It was some sort of magic, I guess,” he started. “One minute I was reading the letter and then I was in this weird room with Sean, Evelien, Tyler and some woman named, Amy.” 

Mark perked up at the name and gestured for him to continue. 

“I guess Sean had been at some place called _Bethlam_ , and he had met this man, who had been given the death penalty for murder and he wanted to try and bargain with Sean for his life.” 

Mark hummed, “what was he bargaining with? The location of the bodies?” 

“A secret. About you.” 

Mark’s eyebrows furrowed and he leaned against the island, “what secret of mine would a 19th century murderer know?” 

Ethan waved his hand around, “some kind of coordinates, I think? They were Gallifreyan. But that’s not the worst part. Um, I think someone murdered Evelien? Because we were talking about this place that you can’t go to and then Evelien was trying to tell Sean that she had fucked up and not locked the door before they went into the trance and she disappeared.” 

Ethan took a deep breath, “and then Sean left because Evelien was murdered, so we had to wake up Tyler to help him. So it was just me and Amy and all these faceless guys appeared out of nowhere. Amy called them _Whisper Men,_ they surrounded us and then this old man’s face appeared and he said, ‘ _tell the Doctor that his friends are lost forever more, unless he goes to Trenzalore.’”_

“Trenzalore?” Mark said sharply, “are you sure?” 

He nodded his head. 

Mark ran a stressed hand through his hair, “ok let’s start from the beginning. Tell me _exactly_ what the Bethlam guy told Sean.” 

“The Doctor has a secret, he will take to his grave. It is discovered.” 

Mark took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, “and you’re sure it was Trenzalore?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

Mark sniffed and wiped at his eyes, “fuck.” 

“Hey,” Ethan rounded the island in alarm, “what’s going on?” 

Mark waved him away and Ethan backed off, giving him space, “nothing. Um. I just need some air.” 

Mark stumbled past him to the backdoor. He fumbled with unlocking the door before he threw it open and almost sprinted to the TARDIS. 

Ethan was frozen to the spot for a few seconds as he tried to process what had happened. Eventually, he hurried after Mark. 

He shoved the TARDIS doors open and frantically scanned the console room, “ _Mark?”_

Ethan found him sitting under the console with his head in his hands. He cautiously approached and put a tentative hand on his back, “babe?” 

Mark shuddered underneath his hand and slowly looked up at him. His eyes were red-rimmed and he let out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry.” 

Ethan fell to his knees in front of him and grasped at Mark’s wrists, “don’t say that. You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“Trenzalore,” Mark muttered, his voice cracking. “I’ve heard the name before. I’ve always wondered what it was, I’d never figured it out. Amy would know. Of course Amy would know.” 

“The coordinates should still be in your memory.“ Mark stood up and pulled out his sonic. He waved it around the wires that hung from the low ceiling before he pulled out a cable. “Give me your hand.” 

Ethan did so without a question, Mark’s hand softly stroking the top of his hand, “this might hurt.” 

Before Ethan could question what he meant, Mark jammed the end of the cable onto the top of his hand, holding it firmly in place, causing a sharp pinch. 

“Ow!” Ethan whined, yanking his hand back as soon as Mark removed the cable and plugged it back into the ceiling. 

“Sorry, Eth,” Mark murmured, stepping into his space to kiss his forehead. 

“What’s Trenzalore?” He asked, “is that your big secret?” 

Mark shook his head, “no. When you’re a time traveler, there’s one place that you can’t go. No matter how badly you might want it, you can’t. One place in all of time and space that is completely off limits.”

“Where?” Ethan said softly. 

“Think about it. _The Doctor has a secret he will take to his grave. It is discovered._ He wasn’t talking about _a secret_ . He was talking about _my grave_. Trenzalore is where I’m buried.” 

Mark gently guided him back up to the console and scrubbed his face with his hands. 

“How can you have a grave?” Ethan asked. 

“We all have one somewhere in the future. Even I do, Eth. The trouble with time travel is that sometimes you can accidentally go to places you aren’t supposed to be.” 

Ethan gently rested a hand on Mark’s lower back, “you’re not thinking of going there are you? Mark, you just said it was the one palace that you can’t go to.” 

Mark started fiddling with the console, “I have to. I have to try and save Evelien, maybe even Sean and Tyler if they need it. They were there for me when I needed them the most. They never questioned me, never judged me, they were just there for me. I owe them.”

“So what’s the plan?” He asked. 

Mark grinned at him, the smile not quite reaching his eyes, “no point in telling you how dangerous this is gonna be?” 

Ethan giggled, “you really think that’s gonna stop me?”

Mark pulled down the lever without further question and the TARDIS wheezed to life. 

He positioned himself against Mark’s side and slid his hand into the back pocket of Mark’s pants. “You know I love you right? No matter what.” 

Mark’s arm snaked around his shoulder and pulled him in, “of course i do. And I love you, too.”

The TARDIS shuddered violently and groaned loudly, the lights flashing in agitation. If he wasn’t leaning against Mark, Ethan would have fallen over. “What was that?” 

“The TARDIS figured out where we’re trying to go, and it’s trying to stop us.” Mark left Ethan’s side to fiddle around with the console, “I’m crossing my own timeline in the biggest way. Of course it won’t like it. Hang on.” 

The TARDIS shrieked loudly and Ethan jerked to the left, desperately reaching for the railing while Mark held onto the console. The entire TARDIS felt like it was vibrating in effort to keep Mark from Trenzalore. Smoke started pouring out of the console and Ethan heard a loud bang before sparks showered over them and the TARDIS plunged into darkness. 

“Mark!” He shouted, trying to look for him in the dark.

“I’m alright, Eth.” He heard the whirring of the sonic and a second later the lights in the floor turned on, outlining Mark’s silhouette. “The TARDIS shutdown. It doesn’t want to land.” 

“So, how do we get there?” 

Ethan heard Mark tap the sonic against the console in thought before Mark headed for the doors, “we’ve gotta be close.” 

He followed Mark to the doors and looked out at a burning, volcanic planet below. Thick, black sulphur clouds obscured most of the planet from view, with only slivers of orange light visible between the clouds. Angry red lightning flashed from cloud to cloud. 

“So that’s where I’m buried,” Mark stated humourlessly. “I thought I might retire. Maybe take up your dad’s fishing offer.” 

“How are we gonna get down there? Are we jumping?” He asked. 

“No, we’re gonna fall,” Mark answered. 

Mark closed the door and strided back over to the beaten console. “It’s turned off everything but the anti-gravs. Guess what I’m turning off?” 

Mark waved the sonic at the console, “hold onto something, Eth.” 

Ethan latched onto the railing and watched with wide eyes as the sonic whirred loudly before he felt his feet lift off the floor as they plummeted to the planet below. 

His stomach shot up into his throat as he screamed at the top of his lungs. 

The impact didn’t feel nearly as bad as it sounded. The TARDIS absorbed most of the hit as Ethan was pressed flat on the floor, his chin slamming into the ground violently. Pain burst from his mouth as he groaned, slowly working his jaw to make sure nothing was broken. 

Somewhere behind him, Mark groaned, “that wasn’t my best idea.” 

He heard Mark slowly getting to his feet and soon enough, felt his presence in front of him, “are you ok?” 

Ethan nodded his head and swiped his fingers on the inside of his lip. He squinted in the dim light of the TARDIS at the blood on his fingers. “Oh.” 

“Here, let me see.” Mark gently tilted his chin up, Ethan suppressing the pain that flared up from the movement and let Mark examine his lip. “It doesn’t look too bad, I think you just bit your cheek.” 

Mark pulled him to his feet and supported most of his weight as the two of them stumbled out of the TARDIS. 

Mark immediately zoned in on a crack in the window of the TARDIS doors and groaned, “fuck, won’t be able to get that fixed. I’m sorry.” He gently stroked the exterior of the TARDIS before he scanned their surroundings. 

What seemed like an endless amount of graves stretched out in front of them. The stones of varying sizes and states of decay. There was a thick fog hanging low in the graveyard, giving the impression that the graves were hovering in midair. Thunder and lightning crackled loudly above them, illuminated their surrounds for a brief moment before the darkness resumed, the larger gravestones casting menacing shadows. 

“It’s ok to be scared, Mark.” He murmured, taking in Mark’s shift posture and tightly clenched jaw. “Anyone would be scared visiting their own grave.” 

Mark’s jaw flexed for a second, “it’s a little more complicated than that, Eth. I’m a time traveler. I’ve time traveled more than anyone else. My grave is probably the most dangerous place in the universe.” 

Mark was the first to step out of the TARDIS, the ground crunching loudly under his feet as he cautiously stepped out into the fog. Mark took in a deep, shaky breath before his arm shot back towards Ethan. 

He took Mark’s hand easily and together they slowly wandered past the stones. “These are pretty basic gravestones.” 

“It’s a battleground, they’re military stones. Easy and quick to erect.” 

“Why are some of them bigger?” 

Mark grimaced as they continued on, a gravestone crumbling as they walked past, “it depends on the soldier’s rank. The higher the rank, the bigger the stone.” 

Mark suddenly stopped in his tracks and sucked in a deep breath, “oh my god.” 

Lightning crackled across the sky, lighting up the gigantic TARDIS perched at the top of the mountain at the end of the graveyard. 

“That’s one hell of a monument,” he muttered, wincing as his hand started to tingle at how tightly Mark was gripping it. 

“It’s the TARDIS,” Mark breathed, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“I can see that.”

“No,” Mark sniffed, his voice thick with emotion, “Ethan, that’s my TARDIS. When a TARDIS dies, the dimension dams start breaking down. The bigger on the inside, leaks to the outside. When I say it’s _the_ TARDIS, I mean, it’s _my_ TARDIS, from the future.” 

Mark scoffed and kicked at a rock, “what else would they bury me in?” 

The two of them carried on through the graveyard as the lightning got more aggressive and frequent. 

“Ethan?” 

He spun around at the sound of a familiar voice, his hand slipping from Mark’s. Amy emerged from behind a large stone. 

“Don’t say anything,” she instructed. “He can’t see or hear me. Only you can.” 

“Ethan?” He looked over his shoulder as Mark started at him with a concerned look on his face from a few dozen feet away. 

“We’re mentally linked,” Amy explained, “from the conference call. I kept the link open.” 

“Who are you talking to?” Mark said cautiously, backtracking. 

Once Mark got less than a few feet away his eyes went wide and he walked straight past Ethan to a large grave stone. “Amy.” 

Mark knelt in front of a stone with Amy’s name on it and placed his hand delicately over her name, tracing the letters. 

“But, that’s impossible,” Ethan breathed. “She’s not dead.” 

Mark hung his head, “oh, she’s been dead for a long time.” 

He spun around to face Amy, who shrugged her shoulders, “probably should’ve mentioned that.” 

“But, I met her,” he insisted, ignoring the innocent look on her face. 

“But, her grave can’t be here,” Mark muttered to himself.

_“This man must fall, as all men must!”_

Ethan spun around at the familiar, hissing voices and gasped as the Whisper Men from the conference call appeared from thin air. “Mark!” 

In a fluid motion, Mark was on his feet, with Ethan protectively behind him with his sonic whirring loudly as he pointed it at the Men. 

_“The fate of all, is always dust!”_

Mark growled, low in his throat as nothing happened to them. He whacked the sonic against his leg, as if to kickstart it into working again. 

“If it isn’t my grave, what is it?” Amy asked, hovering behind his shoulder. 

“What do you think about her gravestone, Mark?” He asked cautiously, looking over his shoulder for Amy’s approval. 

“What do you mean?” Mark barked, agitated the sonic wasn’t working as the Men crept closer. 

“Maybe, it’s a fake grave,” Amy suggested. 

“Maybe, it’s a fake grave,” he parroted. 

“Could be,” Mark grumbled, not paying attention to him. 

“Maybe it’s a secret entrance to the tomb,” Amy hummed. 

“A secret entrance to the tomb?” He squawked, spinning around to look at the stone. 

“Of course!” Mark shouted, pointing the sonic at the stone instead. 

_“This man who lies, will lie no more, when this man lies in Trenzalore.”_

Ethan yelled as the ground below his feet crumbled, he and Mark falling into the darkness. 

\--

**Trenzalore, Unknown.**

Sean sat up with a gasp, desperately sucking air into his lungs. He quickly ran his hands down his body, feeling for injuries and sighed in relief when he found none. 

Tyler was on his stomach a few feet away and Sean scrambled to his feet to get to him, “Tyler!” 

The man in question groaned before slowly pushing himself up onto his knees. “What happened?” 

“I don’t know, I-” Sean stopped mid sentence as he saw Evelien’s lifeless body in front of them. He ran over to her, falling to his knees, ignoring the pain in his joints and the loud rip of his pants. 

He cradled her head in his lap and pressed his fingers to her jugular with shaky hands. 

“Tyler!” He sobbed, leaning down to rest their foreheads, together, “she’s dead!” 

Tyler crawled over and pulled out an oblong-shaped gadget, hovering it over her chest. “No heartbeat, complete cardio-collapse. Induced by shock.” 

“Get her back!” He demanded, desperately trying to ignore the way her skin felt unnaturally cold against his hands, “fucking bring her back, or you’ll be joining her!” 

Tyler pressed a button on the side of the gadget and placed it on Evelien’s chest. He heard a high pitched beep before Evelien’s body jolted upwards, her eye’s shooting open as she started coughing. 

“Portable EKG,” Tyler bragged, tossing the gadget up in the air and catching it. “Knew it would come in handy.” 

Sean ignored him in favour of brushing the loose hairs that had fallen out of Evelien’s bun away from her face as she tried to catch her breath and take in her surroundings. “It’s ok, Evelien, you’re ok.” 

He carefully helped her to her feet and kept a stabling hand on her waist as she leaned heavily against him. 

“We meet again, Detective,” a familiar voice announced from the mist. 

Sean’s grip on Evelien tightened as Walter Simeon emerged from the mist, flanked by Whisper Men. 

“I assume I have your full attention?” 

“Doctor Simeon,” he sneered, “how unpleasant. This shouldn’t be possible.” 

The man sneered back, “and yet here I am. Meeting you once again, so very far from home.” 

“I don’t understand,” Evelien mumbled, “Simeon died.” 

“Walter Simeon died, the creature that possessed him apparently lived on. I assume we’re in the presence of the _Great Intelligence?_ ”

Simeon gave them a dark smile, gesturing broadly to the large, stone structure in front of them. “Welcome to the tomb of the Cruel Tyrant, the Slaughterer of Billions and the Vessel of the Final Darkness! Welcome to the Tomb of the Doctor!” 

“Why should we believe you?” Tyler barked, flanking protectively next to them. 

“Look at where you’re standing!” Simeon boasted, “at the foot of a dead man’s TARDIS. His death was caused by a… minor skirmish in comparison to his blood soaked hands. Not exactly the Time War, but enough to finish the old man off.”

“The Doctor is many things,” Sean growled lowly, “but he is not blood soaked!” 

“Tell that to the leader of the Sycorax,” Simeon taunted, “or Solomon the Trader, the Cybermen, or the Daleks. Shall I continue? That man, _that monster,_ lives his life in darker hues. He will have other names before his end of days. _Storm. The Beast. The Valeyard._ ”

“Suppose I humour you and assume this information is true, which I take the pleasure in assuming it’s falsehood. I question how you were the one who was able to obtain it?” He spat. 

“I am information.” 

“You were a mind without a body last we checked,” Evelien grumbled. 

“Yes, and you were supposed to stay that way.” Tyler growled, low in his throat.

“Alas,” Simeon bowed his head, “I did.” 

They all watched in horror as Simeon tugged at the skin of his neck and ripped it away to reveal a hollow man. He collapsed like a bag of rocks in front of them. 

One of the Whisper Men stepped forward, face contorting and morphing into Simeon’s features, a wicked smirk on his face. “Now, where were we?” 

\--

“Mark,” Ethan whined, tightly gripping Mark’s hand, “where are we?” 

“Catacombs,” Mark mumbled, trying to navigate through the narrow tunnels with only the green light from the tip of the sonic. 

“I hate catacombs,” he grumbled. 

“I died saving his life,” Amy’s voice echoed around him. “To thank me, he had me saved to the largest database in the biggest library in the universe. I’m sure if you looked hard enough, Bob and Wade are in here with me. Maybe one day, you will be as well.” 

Ethan froze on the spot and spun around, expecting to see Amy behind him, instead one of the Whisper Men was charging at him, teeth bared. 

“Ethan!” Mark tugged on his arm and together they ran as fast as they could through the catacombs. Hanging tree roots tugged at their clothes and scraped along their scalps as they struggled to navigate in the dark.

“Come on,” Mark encouraged, panting deeply as a doorway appeared, glowing with the similar green light of the TARDIS. 

Ethan screamed as a Whisper Man grabbed hold of the back of his shirt just as they passed through the doorway. He felt cold fingers scrape up his spine and down his legs. 

“Ethan!” 

Mark grabbed hold of both of his arms and yanked him out of their grasp before he slammed the heavy metal door shut. He quickly aimed the sonic at it and both of them sighed in relief as they heard the metal lock clang shut. 

“Holy fuck,” Mark gasped, leaning against the door. 

They both looked up at the seemingly endless metal staircase they had to climb and looked at each other, silently begging one another to say they’ll go first. 

“Fucking aye, let’s go,” Ethan panted, stomping up the staircase, Mark trailing behind him. 

“Shouldn’t be too many flights, if I’m remembering right,” Mark said from behind him. 

Soon they came to a landing and stopped briefly to catch their breath. Ethan stumbled as he felt lightheaded and felt himself falling forward until Mark caught him. 

“Hey, take it easy, you’re ok,” Mark soothed, taking all of his weight. “The dimensional forces this deep inthe TARDIS can fuck with you.” 

“I knew that,” he mumbled, “how do I know that?” 

Mark’s face appeared in front of him suddenly with a concerned look on his face, “Ethan, you’re ok. You and the TARDIS are still connected from earlier. Remember?” 

Ethan felt his head nod without his permission and his knees gave out. 

“ _The boy who died, he tried to save. He’ll die again inside his grave!”_

“Fuck.” 

Ethan vaguely felt himself being lifted up as Mark hoisted him up over his shoulder and ran as fast as he could without dropping him. It was a bumpy ride, but Ethan wasn’t in the right mindset to say anything. His mind felt like mush and his body boneless as Mark emerged outside at the base of the tomb. 

The fresh air cleared some of his thoughts as Mark carefully set him down and collapsed next to him. “We should be ok to rest here for a little bit and catch our breath,” Mark panted. 

Slowly, he found himself becoming more clear minded and able to focus on his surroundings. He lolled his head over to the side to look at Mark with a dopey grin on his face, “thank you for saving me.” 

Mark huffed out a laugh, “yeah, no problem babe. Too bad your deadweight almost killed me.” 

Ethan reached a hand out and grasped at Mark’s fingers, “what happened to me?” 

“You and the TARDIS share a connection. Your blood is filed away somewhere in its databases and it recognized you. So what’s happening inside the TARDIS started affecting you because of that connection.” 

“Filed away in the largest database in the universe,” Ethan mumbled, thinking back to what Amy said earlier. 

“What was that?” Mark asked. 

He shook his head, “don’t worry about it. We should get moving.” 

Mark groaned and pushed himself up, “are you ok to keep going?” 

“Oh you bet,” he said cheerily as he got up, hissing at the deep body ache he felt. 

“You should be ok from here, the effects of the TARDIS can’t impact you if we aren’t in the centre.” 

The two of them walked in silence along the base of the TARDIS until they arrived at the front. In the distance, Ethan could see a small group of people and almost sprinted towards them when he saw Evelien up and standing next to Sean, until Mark grabbed at his arm. “Stay close,” Mark warned as they cautiously approached. 

Ethan creeped closer to Mark as he saw their friends surrounded by Whisper Men and the man from the conference call. 

Almost as if on cue, the man spun around and sneered at them, “Doctor, late for your own funeral I’m afraid.”

“Walter Simeon,” Mark spat, “can’t say I’m excited to see you.” 

“The Great Intelligence lives on, Doctor. Now, the Doctor will open his tomb.” 

“The Doctor will not,” Mark scoffed. 

“Why not? Are you afraid of what’s inside?” 

“I will not open those doors.” 

“All we need is a key, a single word. Lost in time. Known to you alone.” 

Mark growled low in his throat as he stalked up to Simeon, “I will not open my tomb.” 

Simeon’s face contorted in anger, “the Doctor’s friends; stop their hearts.” 

Ethan hadn’t been paying attention as the circle of Whisper Men closed in around them. He, Sean, Evelien and Tyler quickly closed ranks as they were crowded together. 

“Stop!” he heard Mark demand, “this is between me and you Simeon!” 

“Open the tomb, Doctor!” 

Ethan screamed as a Whisper Man reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart. Ice filled his veins and his muscles seized. 

“Ethan!” Mark howled, trying to rush past Simeon to get to him. 

More Whisper Men appeared and through the ringing in his ears, Ethan could hear Sean yell out, “don’t open the tomb, Mark! Don’t fucking do it!” 

“Mark,” he whispered, hoping it would come out as a scream. His eyes fluttered and he sank to his knees. Mark’s desperate pleads for mercy swimming around in his ears. 

A loud gong from the TARDIS fully registered in Ethan’s brain as the Whisper Man released his heart and removed his hand from his chest. 

Ethan was hauled to his feet and his arm was draped around a broad set of shoulders as he tried to recover. 

“That was fucking awful,” Tyler groaned as he and Ethan limped towards Mark, who was looking at the open tomb in shock. 

“The TARDIS can still hear me,” Amy mused, wandering past Tyler and Ethan to the open doors in front of Mark. 

Sean and Evelien staggered next to him, heavily leaning on each other. 

“I didn’t open it,” Mark wheezed. “I didn’t do it.” 

“Mark,” he croaked, reaching out to him. 

Mark’s head snapped towards him at the sound of his name and he surged forward to take him from Tyler. “Thank you, Tyler. Are you guys alright?” 

“I’ve been better,” Tyler affirmed, giving a weak smile. All Sean and Evelien were able to do was offer a weak thumbs up.

Mark pulled him into his chest and hugged him so tightly Ethan thought his ribs would crack. “I’m so sorry, Eth.” 

“I’m ok,” he promised. “Maybe we just don’t tell me dad about this one?” 

Mark snorted into his neck, “you have taken a beating this one, haven’t you?” 

“I’m gonna be so fucking sore tomorrow.” 

Mark hummed in agreement, “I think we all will feel something tomorrow.” 

Simeon cleared his throat and Ethan felt Mark shift. He wasn’t ready to leave Mark’s arms yet, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. He mustered up the remaining strength in his body and forced his arms to let Mark go. He stood dutifully at his side as Tyler, Sean and Evelien stood next to them. 

“Do you know what’s in there?” Mark warned. 

“For me, Doctor, there is only peace. For you, everlasting pain.”

A pit of dread formed in Ethan’s stomach as he glanced at the stormy expression on Mark’s face. 

“Now then, won’t you invite us in?” 

Ethan wasn’t sure what he was expecting as he and Mark entered the TARDIS first, everyone else following close behind. But a double staircase winding around a raised console platform wasn’t it. It clearly wasn’t their TARDIS. Their console was level with the doors and the staircases weren’t as fragile looking as these. The TARDIS gonged loudly and Ethan heard sparks above them. 

Mark gripped his hand tightly as they ascended the staircase. Vines climbed the walls of the TARDIS and wrapped around the railing. They’re surrounded by rusting and eroded metal as the TARDIS rots from the inside-out. 

Ethan gasped when he saw a column of shimmering red light in place of the console. As they got closer, he realized it wasn’t a single beam, but an ever shifting flow of thousands of individual red coils, weaving through one another seamlessly. 

“What is that, Mark?” He stammered. 

“What were you expecting?” Marked asked grimly, his jaw clenched. “A body? Those are boring. I’ve had lots of them. Those are the tracks of my tears.” 

“Less poetry, Doctor,” Simeon demanded. “Tell them.” 

Mark’s lips pressed into a fine line, and Ethan watched as Mark fought with himself internally. “Time travel is damage, like a tear in the fabric of reality. Those are the scars of my journey through time and space. From Gallifrey, to Trenzalore.” 

Mark pulled his sonic from his pocket and aimed it at the threads of light. His hand shook as he activated the sonic. Voices started to echo around them, the threads crackling with electricity as the voices started to overlap. 

“... _the crack in your wall. Does it scare you?”_

_“... life needed a bit of madness..”_

_“... where do you get the milk?”_

_“... why don’t we have a little fun?”_

_“... did you miss me?”_

_“... don’t even blink. Blink and you’re dead.”_

_“... maybe you just missed my pretty face.”_

“It’s my own personal time stream,” Mark said weakly. “Even the ones that I haven’t lived yet.” 

Mark collapsed on the ground, like a puppet who had its strings cut, gasping for breath. His body twitching as his chest heaved in effort to get air into his lungs. 

Ethan was by his side almost immediately, his hands fluttered uselessly over Mark’s body, unsure of what to do. “Mark?”

“I shouldn’t be here,” Mark croaked, rolling onto his back, “the paradoxes… it’s not good. I can’t be here.” 

“Ok, then let’s get you out of here,” he urged, trying to get his arms under Mark to help heave him up. “Tyler, can you help me?” 

Ethan glanced up and did a double take at the sight of their friends being restrained by the Whisper Men. His heart thundered in his ears as he watched, helplessly. Each one of them unable to move or speak as they desperately tried to free themselves. 

“Can’t you see what you’re doing?” Ethan shouted over the roaring in his ears, “you got what you wanted. You’re in Mark’s tomb. Leave us alone!” 

Simeon ignored him, instead he took a step towards the time stream, his eyes hungry. 

“No,” Mark wheezed, desperately trying to sit up, “what do you think you’re doing?” 

“The Doctor’s life is an open wound,” Simeon said in wonder, “open wounds can be entered.” 

“It’ll destroy you,” Mark warned, panting through clenched teeth. 

“Not at all,” Simeon said calmly, “it will kill me, but it will destroy you. I can rewrite your every living movement. Turn every victory, into a defeat. Poison every relationship you’ve made, cause pain to your every breath.” 

“It will burn you up,” Mark muttered, his eyes fluttering, “you can’t come back. It will scatter you across my timeline like confetti.” 

“Exactly, Doctor,” Simeon responded, “you have thwarted me at every turn. Now, you will give me peace as I take my revenge against every incarnation of you, past and future.” 

Simeon stepped into the time steam. The healthy red light exploded into a sickly puke-green. Sparks shot out of the time stream as the Whisper Men disappeared with a loud hiss. 

Mark let out a scream of agony that will haunt Ethan for the rest of his life and started thrashing around violently. 

“What’s wrong with him!” Ethan cried, trying to keep Mark’s head stable as he continued to scream and thrash around. 

“He’s being rewritten,” Sean gasped in horror, kneeling next to them. Tyler tossed him a small device and Sean hovered it over Mark’s chest briefly before examining the small screen. 

“Simeon is attacking his entire timeline. He’s dying all at once! At Androzani. The Dalek Asylum. Torchwood.” 

“What did you say?” He asked sharply, a calm washing over him as the name clicked in his memory. “The Dalek Asylum?” 

“Now he’s dying with me in Simeon’s office in London,” Sean continued, ignoring Ethan’s question. “With the snowmen!” 

Tears well up in his eyes as he stared at the time stream, the strands appearing frail and thinning before his eyes. 

Mark stilled in Ethan’s arms and his eyes slid closed. His chest barely heaving in staccato movements. 

“No!” He cried, tapping lightly at Mark’s cheek, “come on, Mark. You can’t do this to me! Stay awake!” 

Mark’s eyes fluttered open, his pupils blown and unfocused, “Eth?” 

“I’m right here,” he promised, running his hands through Mark’s hair in the way he knew Mark liked. 

“My God,” Sean muttered, “a world without the Doctor. Think of the consequences.” 

“The Dalek Asylum,” he said quietly, ignoring Sean. “You said it was a version of me that saved you, right? The same with Victorian London?” 

Mark just moaned, his eyes flickering around as if he couldn’t process his surroundings. 

Sean’s device started beeping rapidly in his hand and Ethan’s head snapped up at his gasp. “Star systems are disappearing!” 

“What do you mean disappearing?” Tyler demanded, kneeling down next to Sean. 

“Mark’s timeline is corrupted, every victory reversed. Think about all the lives that man saved, _how many worlds?_ He saved Evelien’s life!” 

Sean’s eyes widened and he looked over his shoulder to find Evelien, only for them to be the only people in the room. _“Evelien!”_

“My whole life is on fire,” Mark mumbled, his face scrunching up in pain. 

Ethan looked down at Mark’s pale and sweaty face. His fingers delicately traced his jaw line, up to his cheek. He looked back up at the time stream. Something slotted together in his mind, like a long lost puzzle piece. 

Gallifrey. The Dalek Asylum. Victorian London. 

Mark had told Simeon that he would be scattered across his timeline like confetti. 

Ethan already had been. 

“I have to go in there,” Ethan said, resolute. Mark had been right. They had met before. 

“What?” Tyler squawked, looking away from a devastated Sean. 

“No, Eth.” Mark’s fingers weakly curl around his wrist, “you can’t.” 

“But this is what I’ve already done. You’ve already seen me do it. I’m your Impossible Boy. We finally know why.” He wiped at the tears on his cheeks, “you didn’t meet other versions of me. You met _me_. Every one of those times, it was me, I just didn’t know it.” 

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t.” Amy warned, appearing next to them. 

“If I step in there, what happens to me?” 

“The time winds will rip you to shreds. A million versions of you, living and dying all over time and space.” Amy answered gravely. “Like echoes.” 

“But they won’t be you,” Amy told him, “the _real_ you will die. They’ll just be copies.” 

“Real enough to save him? It’s the only way, isn’t it?” 

Amy nodded solemnly and clasped her hands in front of her. 

Ethan tried to roll the tension out of his shoulders and looked down at Mark’s waxen face. His eyes were barely open and his hearts were beating out of sync. Ethan leaned down and pressed a kiss to Mark’s forehead. “I’m gonna fix everything. You’ve protected me, and loved me. It’s my turn to save you, Mark.” 

Mark twitched under him and tried to open his mouth, but all that came out was a low wheeze. 

“Hey, it’s ok.” He soothed, not knowing if Mark was actually able to help him or not. “I love you.” 

He stood up slowly, ignoring the pain in his chest as Tyler and Sean disappeared in the blink of an eye. It was just him left. He was the only one who could save Mark. 

“E-Eth.” 

“If this works, we’ll meet again, Mark. We always do. And I know that every version of me that you meet will love you just as deeply. I don’t think it’s possible not too. It’s written in my DNA. Just remember. Remember that I did not go gentle into that good night.” 

Ethan ran into the time stream. 

\--

“Ethan!” Mark screamed as life surged back into him. “Ethan no!” 

The column of sickly green light exploded into a pale lilac. Mark stumbled to his feet as Sean, Tyler and Evelien appeared, scattered around the room. 

“Evelien!” Sean screeched, barreling through him to almost tackle her. 

Mark zoned them out, staring as the strands of light start to weave together again, regaining their strength. His whole being yearned for Ethan. His Ethan, who had sacrificed himself.

“He did it,” Tyler said breathless, “he fixed everything.” 

“Not everything,” Mark corrected. 

“You can’t go in there, it’s your own timestream, for god’s sake, Mark.” Amy warned. 

“I have to get him back!” He insisted, pointedly not looking at his old friend. 

“Obviously, but you need to find another way,” Amy stood in front of him, so he couldn’t ignore her any longer. 

He met her eyes for the first time in centuries, “Ethan has one advantage over the Great Intelligence.” 

“Which is?” Sean demanded, “share with the class.” 

“Me.” 

“Mark, please listen to me,” Amy demanded. 

“If I don’t make it back, go to the TARDIS. It will take you all home.” 

“Mark, there has to be another way!” Amy persisted, “use the TARDIS, use anything! _Save Ethan, but be reasonable!”_

He grasped onto her shoulders, causing her to freeze in disbelief, “how’re you doing that? We both know I’m not really here.” 

“You’re always here.” He said softly, “You, Bob and Wade are always with me. And I always listen. I always see you wandering around the TARDIS when you think I’m not looking.” 

Her eyes filled with tears, “then why don’t you ever answer me?” 

“Guilt,” he answered honestly. “Cowardice. I thought it would hurt too much.” 

Amy shook her head, “I would’ve coped.” 

He shook his head sadly, “no, it would’ve hurt _me_ too much. It _does_ hurt me too much. Losing you, and then Bob and Wade, was too much for me. And I’m sorry, I truly am for making you think that you were alone. You’ll never be alone again. But I have to go in there and get Ethan back.” 

\--

Ethan Nestor was falling. 

He’s hurling through the air surrounded by red and blue light, melting together into a soft lilac. Everything is a blur, he doesn’t know if he’s falling up or down. He feels like a leaf, tumbling through the air in a storm. It felt like the wind was ripping him into shreds and every sliver of his being was being cast out into the farthest depths of the universe. 

He existed everywhere and nowhere all at once. He doesn’t know where he is. He just knows that he’s running. He’s lived a thousand lives, in a thousand places, all across the universe. Every century, every planet, every universe. 

He’s born, he lives, he dies. 

Each life is as unique as the next, but one thing _always_ stayed the same. 

The Doctor.

_Mark. Always Mark._

Ethan’s always running to save Mark. Over and over again and again and again. 

Mark hardly ever hears him. But that’s ok, Ethan’s always there, ready to save him again. He has been since the day Mark started running. Sometimes, Mark will spare him a glance and Ethan will see a flicker of recognition in his eyes for a split second before it’s gone again. Leaving Ethan to wait for his next life to see the love of his life again. It was inevitable that it would happen again, they were written into each other’s DNA. 

Ethan feels like he’s falling faster, falling into what, or falling into where he doesn’t know. All he knows is that Mark is safe. He’s safe because Ethan was born to save him. He can feel the memories of his other lives disappearing. But it’s ok, they’ll return soon enough, and that means that he’ll get to see Mark soon. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, Mark’s always there. 

Mark’s the Doctor. _And he’s safe._

Ethan is his Impossible Boy.

His story is done, he can finally rest. 

\--

Ethan’s eyes fluttered open, his cheeks damp and cold as the wind burned at his face. 

He’s not dead. He was supposed to be dead. 

He frantically sat up and looked at his surroundings. He’s surrounded by a low lying thick golden fog. It felt like he was standing on a cliff, overlooking the ocean. But he couldn’t smell the salt in the air, or hear waves crashing beneath him. One thing he knows for sure is that he’s alone. 

Or at least, he thought he was. 

A man rushed by him, wearing a fedora and a long striped scarf that flapped in the wind as the man sprinted by. 

“Mark?” He called out cautiously, his voice cracking as his vision blurred with tears. “Mark, was that you?” 

He jumped when another man ran right through him like he wasn’t even there. The man wore a white suit and had long hair. Ethan would recognize him anywhere. 

Mark looked over his shoulder and Ethan gasped at the sight of Mark’s solid white eyes, his warm brown eyes, nowhere in sight. 

More versions of Mark ran circles around him, but none of them acknowledged his existence. One Mark ran by with faded red hair in his pajamas. Another in a satin pink shirt and equally as pink moustache. 

“Mark!” Ethan shouted over the roaring wind, “Mark, I don’t know where I am!” 

They all ignore him. 

Ethan let out a sob, curling in on himself and hiding his face in his arms as he cried. Desperate for Mark to come and save him. 

“Ethan?” Mark’s voice echoed around him. “You can hear me, I know you can.” 

Ethan frantically rubbed his eyes as he tried to find where Mark’s voice was coming from. “But I can’t see you.” 

“Yes you can,” Mark responded calmly, “you’re in my time stream. Everything is me.” 

A version of Mark in a blue pinstriped suit, trench coat and converse sprinted by. Followed quickly by another Mark slicked back hair, dressed like a prisoner. 

“I can see you,” he sniffed, staggering to his feet. “I mean, they aren’t _you_ , but.” 

“Those are my ghosts,” Mark explained, “my past and future. Every good day and every bad day.” 

The ground shook beneath his feet as a loud clap of thunder roared overhead. 

“What’s happening?” He gasped, almost colliding into a Mark wearing a leather jacket. 

“I’m trying to enter my own time stream,” Mark answered. “I’m not supposed to be in here, so it’s collapsing in on itself.”

“Then get out, you idiot!” he shouted, “what the fuck were you thinking coming in here? _Get out!”_

“I’m not leaving without you, Eth.” Mark said, determined. 

“I don’t even know who I am,” he sobbed, “I don’t know _where_ I am, I don’t know _who_ I am.” 

“You’re my Impossible Boy, Ethan,” Mark soothed, “you always have been and you always will be. I’m sending you something. It’ll remind you who you are. It’s from your past, not mine.” 

A large, orange leaf fluttered down towards him. 

“That’s you Ethan,” Mark explained, “remember the leaf in your book? It’s everything you were and will be.” 

Ethan reached up and delicately plucked the leaf out of the air. It stabilized him and cleared some of the confusion in his head. 

“You blew into this world on this leaf. Hold tight, it will take you home.” 

He took a few uneven steps forward and spun on his heel. “How?” 

“Ethan? Ethan! C’mon, come here!” 

Through the fog, Ethan made out a figure a few dozen feet in front of him. It looked like Mark, beckoning him closer, but Ethan couldn’t trust that. 

“Mark?” He whimpered anyways. 

“Yes, Ethan, it’s me. Come here! You can do it, I know you can!” Mark held his hand out to him and Ethan took a few steps forward before he felt a wave of dizziness hit him like a truck. 

“How?” 

“Because it’s impossible. And you’re my Impossible Boy! Come here!” 

He shook his head, his knees shaking as if they’re about to give out. “I can’t.” 

“Yes, you can. You can do it Ethan, I know you can. How many times have you saved me? Please, let me save you.”

Ethan willed his legs to move, begged his brain to function properly as he staggered towards Mark. Hoping desperately that he was real. 

Mark held his arms open wide and gave him an encouraging smile, “almost there, babe. Keep pushing.” 

He reached his arms out and brushed his fingers against Mark’s. A sob bubbled in his throat as Mark grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward. 

He latched onto Mark and couldn’t help himself as he started sobbing loudly into Mark’s chest. Clinging onto him desperately. 

Mark wrapped his arms around him tightly and cradled the back of his head in his hand. “Ethan, _my Ethan.”_

He nodded his head, unable to speak as sobs consumed his body. Mark just held him and rocked them gently from side to side until his sobs turned to hiccups. 

“You’re real,” he sniffed. “You came for me.” 

“Of course I came for you, you idiot. I couldn’t leave you here.” 

Ethan giggled into Mark’s neck and rested his head on Mark’s shoulder. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too.” He felt Mark kiss the top of his head and let his eyes flutter shut, finally safe enough to rest. 

“Hey,” Mark said softly, “you gotta stay awake a little longer.” 

He was already too far gone to respond to Mark. He snuggled himself closer into Mark’s neck and hummed at the sound of discomfort that Mark made at him getting too close to his neck. 

A rush of cold air hit him as Mark let him go, waking him up a little more. Ethan whined low in his throat and squawked as he felt hands on the back of his thighs. He was lifted up easily and he quickly wrapped his legs around Mark’s waist so he wouldn’t fall. 

“Don’t worry, I got you.” Mark assured. “You’ve done more than enough today. I’ll get us home safe.” 

The last thing that Ethan heard before falling asleep was the wheeze of the TARDIS. The sound brought him comfort and peace as wind swirled around them. But Ethan wasn’t concerned. 

They were safe and they were going home. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //cw 
> 
> there is an unhealthy and abusive relationship between a parent and child  
> Ethan receives a minor injury and bleeds  
> historically accurate terminology for a mentally ill person with period accurate restraints


End file.
